


Between Ice and Wings

by D_OShae



Series: Of Dragons, Winter, and Men [3]
Category: Hijack - Fandom, How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Action & Romance, Crossover, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 10:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 111,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15070793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_OShae/pseuds/D_OShae
Summary: Life on Halla does not always go as planned. For ten years Hiccup and Jack tried to build a life together, but certain things keep getting in the way. They find out personal successes do not always equate into relationship success. When the person believed to be children's fantasy begins to act stranger than normal, it begins to threaten everyone on Berk. However, the past becomes a major obstacle and one that needs reckoning.(Third and Final Installment. Second edit complete with an extended Afterword. No new content added to story, mostly grammatical and word fixes.)





	1. Chapter 1

[ **Note** : This work requires an understanding of events in Winter Comes to Berk and A Dragon on Earth. This precludes the last season of Dragons: Race to the Edge. Finally, some parts of this story break from the Guardians of Childhood canon in significant ways. This is the third and final installment in this series.]

* * * * * * * * * *

The warm air held close and still. Even motes of dust did not get disturbed. Nothing seemed amiss. The room, large by any standard to hold so many occupants, lay silent. Shelves lined the upper half of the walls, and cleverly contrived dressers and bureaus on the lower portions. The enormous bed sat as solid as a mountain in a third of the room. It did not squeak, even when anything on it moved. Only the sounds made by the two sleeping men indicated the room as occupied, except the occasional grunts or the breaking of wind by the two dragons lying in their respective nests. One beast seemed invisible while the other's scaled underbelly appeared to glow. No one on Berk found the arrangement unusual in any manner. For ten years the small longhouse held the current occupants.

Then one person arrived unseen by human eyes. The sleeping dragons did make note of the young man who entered the dwelling in such a manner as no other being could achieve. The figure came straight through the wall. It moved to a specific location and hovered over a specific part of the large bed.

“Jack?” A voice whispered over the head of one of the sleeping men.

A brown-haired man snorted and turned over. A dragon gumbled.

“Jack, come on. Are you awake?” The voice implored. “Jack!”

“Dammit, Isemaler,” the other man with russet hair and freckles said in a booming but groggy voice as he sat upright. “How many times have we told you not to sneak in here at night?”

“A few,” the invisible Spirit of Winter Joy squeaked.

“A few? A few! How about thousands! I am sick to death of it, Isemaler,” Hiccup growled. “That's it. Get out. Stay out. I banish you from the house!”

Two dragons rumbled in displeasure at the yelling.

“No, Hiccup, you don't...”

“This is not your house. You don't live here. Now get out!”

Hiccup glowered at the invisible presence of Isemaler, the Hallan Spirit of Winter Joy. He formed a good approximation of where the immortal young man floated. The v-neck opening of his sleeping shift slipped over his shoulder, exposing fairly pale skin dotted by even more freckles. He jerked it roughly into place.

“It's different this time, Hiccup,” Isemaler's voice, seemingly disembodied, begged. “It keeps getting into my head!”

“Then stop trying to sleep,” Jack huffed and gave up the pretense of sleeping through the commotion. “You don't need to anyway.”

“Oh, gods, not this stupid nightmare again?” Hiccup ground the rhetorical question through his teeth. “I'm serious, Isemaler, you're banished. Starting now!”

“Hiccup!” The spirit pleaded.

“So you're going to get up and fly to the mountain right now to appeal to Noro the Skydancer?  
Jack inquired and sounded more than a little skeptical.

Hiccup shot a heated and mean look at his mate. For at least the last seven years they carried on the same argument, and Jack did not seem disposed or willing to set limitations on Isemaler. The first three years of the new Isemaler's existence Hiccup held his tongue, but too many times the playful immortal would make unannounced visits at all hours of the day or night and carry on as if no one planned anything else. Once before he started to appeal to the greatest power that watched over Halla, but Jack intervened at the last moment with plaintive appeals on behalf the former Grimtooth Skovaks. For another three years he waited for Jack Frost, the first Isemaler of Halla and the Spirit of Fun from Earth, to exert some authority. Time and again, however, Isemaler managed to distract Jack with some bit of nonsense. After ten years of waiting, Hiccup could endure no more.

“Why not? The idiot won't let us get any sleep anyway,” he grumbled at his mate and threw the thin sheet off his legs.

Toothless lifted his head and watched his rider. Jack sat up as well and also watched. His brown hair approximated a similar style to that of his Spirit of Fun appearance. Near the side of the bed on which Jack slept, Isemaler slowly came into view. His wild hair of blonde-white stood out at all angles. His azure eyes, the color of winter sky on a clear day, did not blink and watched his fellow native Hallan. Isemaler gripped his crooked staff so tightly in his hands the skin on his knuckles turned an even whiter shade than the rest of his pale skin. Hiccup ignored the immortal young man and continued to hunt for his flying armor.

“You really mean to do this?” Jack asked and his tone switched to one of caution.

Hiccup spun around and glared at Jack before saying: “You always defend him, and I'm sick of that, too. It's like he means more to you than me... to our life together. So if you're not going to do anything, I am!”

“Isemaler does not mean more to me than you,” the Guardian in hiding said in a quiet voice.

“Then prove it! Banish him for our house!”

Toothless grumbled after his rider yelled. Jack, Isemaler, and Ice Spike all stared at Hiccup. He waited for Jack to do or say something. The silent moments ticked by.

“Well, that tells me a lot,” Hiccup said and a surge of disappointment flooded through him.

“It's not what you think,” Jack stated.

“It's exactly what I think, Jack, because you don't prove it otherwise. I done with this. I'm going to go beseech Noro.”

“Hiccup, you don't understand... please, listen to me. Even if I just close my eyes, I can see it. I don't even have to be asleep,” Isemaler stated in what sounded like a fit of desperation.

The living Viking continued to shrug into his flying gear and gave no indication he heard the Hallan spirit. He went past the point of anger and verged on sorrow. Hiccup did not hate Isemaler, and he knew the transformed young man performed an important service to the people of his world, but his refusal to respect either him or Jack when it came to their privacy exceeded the Hallan dragon rider's limits. In a fit of roiling emotions, Hiccup jammed his feet into his boots.

“I... I close my eyes, and... and all I can see is darkness...”

Hiccup bit the side of his cheek to stop from letting loose with a sharply sarcastic response.

“With stars... I can see stars, but there's something else,” Isemaler said in a faint voice. “I can feel it... it... whatever it is. It's out there. It's looking for us... Jack and me...”

“Of course,” Hiccup nastily snapped. “It's always about the two spirits and forget about the rest of the people who live on this world... in this house. I am so damn tired of it always being about you, Isemaler! But no more. Not any more!”

Hiccup grabbed his flying helmet, and turned to his dragon. Ice Spike narrowed her eyes and watched the proceedings. The ebony dragon seemed on high alert.

“Toothless, meet me out porch!”

The Viking left no room for argument. He stomped down the stairs and headed for the door. Above him the clank of a latch and the whir of spring-driven cogs echoed after him. Seconds later he heard the plod of naked feet on the steps and on the floor behind him. Just as he reached for the door, a hand grabbed his arm in the crease of his elbow.

“Hiccup?” Jack asked and filled the lone word with worry.

“I don't know when you stopped listening to me... stopped caring, but I can't put up with it anymore,” he said without turning around. “I've tried so hard to understand everything you've gone through, but... but Isemaler wasn't part of the deal. I don't remember the last time you worried as much about me as you do about him.”

With that he jerked his arm out of Jack's grasp and pulled open the door. His boots thudded on the floorboards as Hiccup crossed the threshold. Then he pulled the door shut behind him. Hiccup knew he would start shouting again if he heard another of Jack's excuses. Only a few moments passed before the rush of wind blew across his face as Toothless landed on the grass in front of the house. Hiccup went to the exterior storage closet and retrieved his dragon's flying gear.

“I don't know what I'm going to do, bud,” Hiccup said as he situated the saddle on the midnight back of the winged creature. “It's not like they're in love, but... I know he cares more about him than me. I can feel it. I don't know how I stopped being important to him.”

Toothless warbled at the words. His rider patted the thick neck. The two stood in silence for a moment in the dark pre-dawn as if contemplating what Hiccup just said. Then Hiccup returned to lacing straps through buckles, set the yeti-made tailpiece in place, connected the linkages to the foot pedal, and finally made a last inspection of all the equipment. He ran on instinct born of years of practice. Nothing seemed out of ordinary. Hiccup climbed aboard the strong back of his best winged friend, inserted his peg leg into the foot pedal, and strapped himself into the seat.

“Okay, Toothless: up!” He gave the command.

The night fury expertly launched himself into the sky. In a small manner being airborne and alone with Toothless brought a sense of calm to Hiccup. He thought about how he would make the plea to Noro the Skydancer, and he decided to simply lay out the facts. He hoped the powerful entity would hear him. Hiccup knew both he and Jack needed to change they way they lived, and Noro seemed about the last recourse to force the change. With four hours of steady flying before him, Hiccup slipped into deeper thought as Toothless sailed onto very early morning air currents.

Jack stared at the door. He heard Hiccup walking around the porch, and he could easily and precisely guess his mate's actions. The jingle of hardware told him much. In less than three minutes the sound of Hiccup giving the order to fly seeped under the door. His mate, the Earthling thought, truly knew his way around a dragon. Jack made a silent count as he waited for the hiss of the down stroke. A small, powerful blast of wind rattled the door. After which Jack walked to it and pressed his back against the thick wooden slabs. He sighed.

“You're just going to let him go and do that?” Isemaler invisibly hurled the words at Jack.

“Yes, and it's your fault,” Jack muttered in response. “Why can't you ever think before you do something. You know Hiccup hates it when you sneak into the house.”

Isemaler materialized five feet in front of Jack. He seemed more agitated than when he first arrived. He floated from side to side and shook his head a little. The spirit mumble something.

“What?” Jack inquired.

“Isn't he worried about you?” Isemaler grunted.

Jack did not answer and looked in a different direction.

“No, no, no, no, no! Oh, gods, no! You didn't tell him?”

“I can't tell him,” Jack half-hollered. “Hiccup would lose his mind if he found out I'm having the same dream as yours each time I come back from Earth. I can't do that to him, Isemaler.”

“What if it's real, Jack? Huh? Wh-Wh-What if this isn't a just a dream, but... but... but... some... kind of warning.”

“Warning of what? And get a grip on yourself.”

“It wants the Sickle of Elada... and I don't even know what that is. What is it? Why does... whatever is in my nightmares want it? Why does it keep telling me?” Isemaler babbled the questions and his fear seemed to grow by the moment. Bits of snow floated around him as he got wound up.

“Just calm down, Isemaler,” Jack said in as soothing a manner as he could muster. He pulled his sleeping shirt closer around him as the temperature started to drop. “Think for a second. Does any of that make sense to you?”

The immortal young man shook his head back and forth.

“Did you ever think maybe Blikse'fey is toying with you? Don't forget you haven't done much to get on her good side.”

“You know I've avoided the Thunder Queen for over a month. I won't go near any rain clouds,” Isemaler firmly defended himself.

“You froze part of her solid and it landed in the ocean, and that's not an easy thing to get over. Trust me: Bunny and I still can't talk about a certain blizzard I whipped up fifty years ago,” Jack reminded his elemental friend of his own elemental problems on a different world.

“It's not her that worries me,” Isemaler deftly parried. “And you've got to tell Hiccup about this, Jack. You have to. I don't care if he does get me banished from the house, you need to tell him about these... nightmares. They're getting worse.”

“They're not getting worse, Isemaler,” Jack flagrantly lied. “Did it look like I was having a hard time sleeping?”

“You got back over a week ago, and you said the dreams fade in a few days as you turn more mortal.”

Despite his penchant to make mischief at the worst of times, to get overly excited by events, and to spin wildly out of control when he could not sort through a problem, Isemaler retained a keen and sharp mind. He never forgot anything, and he learned as fast as Jack. Jack thought the former Grimtooth Skovaks learned at an even faster rate. He mastered the ice staff, as Hiccup called it despite it having a different name, in a tenth of the time it took Jack. Of course, Isemaler got granted a mentor and a teacher; hence, a benefit Jack never received.

“Listen, just go and do your duty someplace. I've got to think this through,” he said after a few moments.

“You'd better tell Hiccup, Jack, and I'm serious. I will if you won't,” Isemaler threatened, and his hands squeaked on the surface of the crook.

“And I'd never speak to you again,” Jack instantly retorted. He and the Spirit of Winter Joy made similar threats to one another on other occasions. “And don't tell me I'd get bored. You forget I go back to Earth once a month, and it's a whole month I spend there.”

He gazed directly at Isemaler to underscore his point. Jack's brown eyes drilled into the sky-blue ones of Isemaler. He counted to eleven and the spirit finally looked away.

“I'm not kidding. You say one word to Hiccup about this...”

“Fine. I won't, but I'm telling you right now this is serious,” Isemaler cut into Jack's statement. His eyes narrowed, and Jack could all but hear the wheels grinding noisily in the immaterial head. “You're not going to stop him, are you? What if Hiccup really gets me banished from the house?”

“Well, we'll both probably sleep better,” Jack said first, and Isemaler snorted at the statement. “And you've got no one to blame but yourself. He told you he was going to do it if you didn't stop barging in on us, and I'll lose him for sure if I interfere on your behalf again. You – not him – made me pick a side. You should've known which one I'd take.”

Isemaler stared at him in a hard, unflinching way for several heartbeats. Heat instead of cold radiated from the expression. Then the Spirit of Winter Joy vanished. Jack did not need to guess he departed the house. The house felt empty, and far emptier than he liked. The sole of his bare left foot slapped against the door in frustration.

“Dammit, Isemaler,” he quietly growled the words. “I can't even tell you what I know.”

A tailwind aided Hiccup and Toothless on the flight to the barren island with the single rocky spire pointing straight at the sky, a place they named The Finger of the Gods. No dragons lived on the island. No Viking tribe attempted to make it a home. No ships ever docked along the rocky coast. In fact, from the two times Hiccup and Jack visited the island, they found it devoid entirely of life. The morning sun, for they flew for two hours in the dark before sunrise, glinted off the oddly finger-like spike. The tip got sheered through naturally or by other means, and it left a flat surface wide enough on which all but an alpha dragon could alight. Hiccup aimed Toothless toward it, although the dragon appeared to know their destination. It seemed logical given the watery vista surrounding them.

The night fury landed with style and grace even in the face of a twenty mile an hour wind. Hiccup found it interesting Toothless crouched and moved his head around as though searching for something. Once he dismounted the dragon and stepped onto the stone, the human understood why. A vaguely uncomfortable feeling welled up through the bottom of his feet. It felt as though the rock warned him to be cautious and courteous. It did not go unheeded. Hiccup took off his helmet and hooked it to the saddle. Then he moved to the center of the natural platform and cast his eyes upward. A brilliant sky suffused with the light of a new day stung his eyes. He inhaled.

“Noro the Skydancer, I need to speak with you,” Hiccup said clearly into the air. “Please, hear me at least this once.”

Only the fact he knew he stood alone on an island no one either seemed to know about or wanted to visit saved him from feeling foolish. He could not, unfortunately, guess what to expect. On the first trip to the island, Jack needed to speak to Noro the Skydancer regarding some small but apparently vital aspect regarding Isemaler's power. He knew the great entity that guided and watched over Halla answered Jack because his mate appeared to slip into a waking coma. It looked nothing like Jack's monthly transition to Earth. However, Hiccup never heard their conversation. The second time Jack accompanied him when he came to make his first appeal about banishing Isemaler for their home. Jack, however, persisted in pleading the case for the Spirit of Winter Joy. One item his mate said caused him to change his mind.

“Remember when no one knew about your sexuality and how alone you felt without anyone or anywhere to turn? If you do this, you are condemning Isemaler to a similar fate.”

Jack's words rang in his mind, and he wondered why he thought of it all of sudden. Despite his recollection of that day over three years prior, it did not sway Hiccup's decision. He looked up into the clear summer sky and waited. He knew Jack waited for over three hundred years before his maker, The Man in the Moon, spoke to him. Hiccup knew he could not wait that long. He pondered how beings as old and powerful as Noro and Jack's Father Moon measured time or if it even entered into their thinking.

“Please, Lady Noro. I can't take it anymore. Isemaler doesn't respect our privacy or even the fact it's not his house. He treats Jack like... like... like some sort of trough he can go to and drink from whenever he damn well feels like it. It's not fair to either Jack or me,” Hiccup presented a very short version of his case.

The wind swept his words away and into the distance. Hiccup thought about all of the hundreds, if not thousands, of times Isemaler's impromptu arrival complicated their lives. The spirit of the young man appeared to know the exact wrong time to make a showing. Despite everything both he and Jack said, Isemaler refused to consider the gross discourteousness of his actions. Hiccup did not deny for one moment Isemaler faced a mind-boggling task in his role as the Spirit of Winter Joy and never once complained about demands placed on him. In fact, the former Grimtooth Skovaks seemed to delight in the duty. Like Jack, Isemaler took his responsibility with all due serious even if he did not always act in the most appropriate manner. Yet it did not give Isemaler the right to impose on either him or Jack whenever the whim took the spirit. The complexity of the situation started to give Hiccup a headache as he contemplated all the various angles and positions of each person.

“Do not fret, Hiccup of the Hairy Hooligans,” a voice that came from everywhere and nowhere said quietly in his ear. “From this point forward Isemaler will no longer intrude upon your home... unless you and Jack give him permission at one and the same time, and then only for as long as both of you wish to endure it.”

“Oh, gods, thank you, Lady Noro! Thank you. Thank you!” Hiccup gushed.

“But I must caution you to refrain from dismissing Isemaler in totality,” the voice, like a woman's and yet unlike any he ever heard, continued. “You and your kin are rare in that you will ever be the only ones who will know Isemaler so intimately. Once you have passed on and Jack departs from this world, my child will no longer have anyone who connects him to the mortal world. Think well on what this will mean to him over the eons. He will come to rely on the memories of you and Jack and those few others, just as Jack will come to rely on the memories he holds of you when his days on this world end.”

Hiccup felt like someone knocked the wind out of him as the words sank into his head. He often wondered what Jack would do when he, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III of the Hairy Hooligans, ceased to exist. At times it woke him in the dark of the night in a cold sweat as his mind tried to imagine the span of years Jack would continued to live, longer perhaps than the millions of years the foul creature called Pulhu survived. To be alone during all that time would ultimately be torture. Hiccup remembered the immortal beings who populated Halla, but he did not know if they could imagine being human. The thoughts battered him and made him shudder.

“It is because you are not cruel or vindictive, Hiccup Haddock, that I grant your request,” Noro the Skydancer said, and it sounded as peaceful as a breeze through the grass. “Do not forever forsake Isemaler. A day may come when you have need of him yet.”

“Yes, Lady Noro. I will... yes, I'll keep that in mind,” Hiccup said and realized the moment called for a bit more than that. “I swear it.”

“Thank you, and, although you may not care to know this, Isemaler is equally as fond of you as he is of Jack. He takes your counsel with greater earnestness than he displays.”

“That doesn't do much to explain why he won't respect our privacy.”

“No, perhaps it does not, yet mayhap you should consider what his actions truly mean.”

“I do have a long flight ahead of me,” Hiccup murmured in response to her statements.

“Fare thee well, Hiccup. May the winds be under wing throughout your days.”

“Ah, thanks... and... safe travels to you, too... I guess.”

Hiccup heard a sound like laughter as he suddenly felt alone except for Toothless' presence. It stunned him to think Noro the Skydancer actually took the time to speak more than just a few words to him. What she said began to replay itself in his mind. Instead of immediately taking flight, Hiccup pulled two of the large dried fish cakes from one of the storage pouches. He fed these to an eagerly awaiting Toothless. As his dragon chomped and masticated the hardened food with the gusto only a dragon could muster for the fare, Hiccup sat and thought. One did well to heed the words of a god, he told himself.

“Great Odin! He did it,” Jack whispered to himself as he stared blankly at piece of wood he shaped. The drawing knife dangled loosely in his hand.

“Jack!” A voice loudly intruded into his private moment. “Where in himmel did you drift off to?”

Jack swung his head and stared at the stout figure of Fishlegs, one of only three remaining people who knew his exact nature. Fishlegs long since learned to trust Jack, and mainly because the Earthling could not willingly assume his elemental form. Over time they even managed to form a relatively close friendship and spent many a night discussing the most appropriate means to utilize Jack's advanced technical knowledge. As such, it did not appear odd to him that Fishlegs wore a vest with many pockets and loops sewn onto it to carry his various small tools and writing implements. The round man literally jingled like bells when he walked, and it often reminded Jack of Nicholas St. North. At the moment, however, his friend frowned.

“What?” Jack petulantly rejoined.

“What kind of trance were you in? Haven't seen you like like that since the last time I saw you during a full moon,” Fishlegs quietly said as he walked into the woodworking shop. “Have you finished the bevel cogs yet? I want to test them on the waterwheel.”

“Cogs? Oh, yeah, those. I finished ‘em yesterday night. There over here,” he answered and walked toward the storage area of the sizable workshop.

Since Gobber died peacefully sitting in his chair before the forge just over two years prior, Hiccup and Jack decided to enlarge the forge once Hiccup became the master smith. Fartbritches and Mouldy turned out to be respectable smiths in their own right, but Hiccup received extensive and greater training for a longer period of time. Hence, with the passing of the peg-armed and peg-legged smith, the choice of his successor became obvious. Jack, in his role as a wood smith, continued to work in the forge. Hiccup, however, thought he needed a larger shop. They spent an entire summer expanding and modify the forge so a greater number of people and projects could fit in the building.

“Did you go some place, Jack?” Fishlegs quietly persisted as he joined Jack deeper in the shop.

“I, ah...” Jack started to say and tapered off.

“Oh, come on. I know you and Hiccup have been fighting again. You used to talk to me about it before.”

Jack eyed his friend. He did, indeed, take Fishlegs into his confidence on numerous occasions. Unlike some others, Fishlegs never revealed anything Jack said, even under pressure from Hiccup or Valka. Thus, his instincts told him he could trust the man.

“It's an Isemaler issue.”

Fishlegs' face turned even rounder when his mouth puckered into an oh shape. The thin goatee on his his chin and lip accentuated the look and made it comical. However, the sincere serious expression did not warrant laughter.

“He arrived unannounced early, early this morning and woke us up,” he continued.

“Bet Hiccup didn't like that,” Fishlegs commented.

Jack gave him a stating-the-obvious glance and replied: “Not one bit. He went to go talk to Isemaler's maker to banish him from the house.”

“Can he do that?”

Jack frowned at the question.

“Of course he can. He's done it before, but... should he?”

“Whether or not he should is a closed argument. I don't know why she let me listen in, but I just heard Noro say she would keep Isemaler out... with conditions.”

“You heard?” Fishlegs inquired and appeared mystified.

The two men eyed one another for a moment. With Gobber's absence, no one took the time to remind Jack he once kept company with extremely powerful beings. Granted, at the time he associated mostly with Thursar H'rim, Lord of Winter, but the other strange entities appeared to know about him. While Isemaler got to know the others who invisibly occupied and shaped Halla, Jack remained mostly in the dark about them. In some ways, he preferred that arrangement.

“I haven't heard a single voice from any of them unless I go to that island, so I was just as surprised as you look! The weird thing is I only heard the part about her giving her assent, but... I think they were talking about something else as well.”

“No idea what?”

Jack shook his head.

“Does it... scare you he was talking to her and you could hear it?” His friend continued to press.

“Not scare... or frighten, either. It's just... weird... like in highly unusual.”

“Why is that?”

“'Cause aside from Isemaler, only Thursar H'rim will make an occasional rumble if I say something directly to him he either finds insulting or funny. Otherwise, not a word,” Jack explained.

Fishlegs nodded and appeared to ponder the statements for a minute. Although he would never tell Hiccup as much, Jack believed Fishlegs to be more intelligent by a good margin. The stout Viking did not possess the same creative instincts or inventive knack as Hiccup, but the sheer amount of knowledge crammed under the blonde hair and little winged steel helmet often proved staggering. His keen memory coupled with sharp observational skills made Fishlegs a formidable force on Berk. He also became the historian for the people, and that served a vital function as well. He routinely got elected to the governing council of the island. Thus, Jack waited to hear what the man would say.

“But this is different, right? This isn't just a casual conversation. She's got to know Hiccup is serious if he's willing to fly all the way out there. Besides, this isn't an area where you have any direct control, so Hiccup couldn't ask you to do anything... right?” Fishlegs postulated, but his last trailing question seemed more knowing.

Jack felt his cheeks heat up.

“By Loki, Jack, what did you do... or didn't do?”

“Nothing,” he replied and felt the single word more or less told the truth.

“Nothing as in there was nothing you could do or nothing meaning you didn't do something you should've done?” Fishlegs immediately dissected the response with amazing insight.

“He thinks I have some sort of mystical control over Isemaler, and I don't, Fishlegs,” Jack hissed and anger infused his words. “I've told Hiccup time after time after time Isemaler won't listen to me about certain things. He forgets I got told I needed to train him in his duties... and Hiccup knows who told me to do it. I couldn't ban Isemaler from our house even I could call up any power!”

“Alright, alright! Calm down,” the hulking Viking said and his hands pantomimed a patting motion. “I know Hiccup gets a little... high strung about Isemaler, but he's got reasons to.”

Jack nodded. He could not refute Hiccup put up with more annoyance from Isemaler than he deserved. However, Jack also believed the Spirit of Winter Joy harbored a profound respect for Hiccup, and it showed in the untold number of questions the immortal young man aimed at the Viking. Despite that, the lack of concern for their privacy on the part of Isemaler did pose a significant problem.

“I've tried, Fishlegs. Thor knows I've tried to get Isemaler to calm down and Hiccup to cut him some slack...”

“Hiccup doesn't cut anyone any slack anymore,” Fishlegs interjected. “Not since Gobber died and he took over the forge. It's not like he had much patience left after the civil war.”

Only Fishlegs and Valka, aside from Hiccup and Jack, referred to the deadly infighting that took place on Berk as a civil war. Even though it rested a decade in the past, few liked to talk about the incident. The fact Hiccup refused to remove or repair the burned chieftains chair with the rusted axe buried in the seat back served as a constant reminder of those grim days. It stood as a monument in the Great Hall as testament to fears run wild and that it cost the lives of children, women, men, and dragons. Hiccup wanted the people of Berk to be reminded so it would never happen again.

“I still miss him a lot,” Jack said in regard to the dear friend and mentor Gobber became as Jack transitioned into mortal life.

“We all do... every day,” Fishlegs added.

They stood in silent tribute to the man they lost.

“It's worse for Hiccup. Gobber stepped in after Stoick...” and Jack could not finish the sentence.

“Stoick and Hiccup might've been chief, but Gobber turned out to be our soul,” Fishlegs intoned, and his voice cracked a bit. “It's hard to lose someone like that.”

“That's why I've tried to be accommodating toward Hiccup.”

“Oh, mistake. You know he doesn't want anyone feeling sorry for him or pitying him, Jack. That'll get under his skin real fast. If you've been doing that since Gobber died, I'm surprised he hasn't turned Toothless loose on you.”

The Guardian in disguise blinked at his friend.

“I did warn you about that,” Fishlegs said with a strong note of reproval in his voice.

Long after Fishlegs left the workshop, Jack thought about what his friend said in regard to Hiccup. No matter what anyone told him or warned him about, Jack's nature as a Guardian tended to poke through. Instinct drove him to protect Hiccup, both his feeling as well as his life, almost regardless of the cost. However, Jack could not avoid the counsel of Fishlegs who knew his mate since infancy. The iciness in his relationship with Hiccup seemed to stem from the time of Gobber's passing. Ye it seemed more than that. Berk changed over the years, and that also appeared to play a role.

The once tight circle of friends who became the aerial defenders of Berk drifted apart. The tumultuous rift between Hiccup and Astrid remained gaping. Even though she adopted a new dragon, she never seemed to forgive Hiccup regarding Stormfly's death. Astrid also became a wife and mother, but that did not ease her temperament. Snotlout descended into a drunken mess following the death of Hookfang and typically kept to himself regardless of attempts to reach out to him. Both Ruffnut and Tuffnut got married to different people, and they lived as a foursome with Barf and Belch and a growing brood of children who acted just as nutty as their respective parents. They rarely heard from Dagur or Heather since Dagur became a prince through marriage and Heather acted as counselor to Queen Malla. As a result, Hiccup became rather isolated since he long ago stopped acting as chief. It did not help matters that Jack wound up becoming popular among the Berkians for both his outgoing personality, quick wit, and skill with wood.

When Hiccup arrived at the smith later in the afternoon, no one questioned his absence during the morning. He went about his business with the same ruthless efficiency as ever. Only Jack noticed the strange smile that would play along his lips on and off throughout the work day. While the two discussed the status of various projects, they did not discuss the one topic each thought most important. When Hiccup learned Fishlegs retrieved the bevel cogs for the waterwheel apparatus, he raced out of the forge to check on the progress. Only Hiccup and Fishlegs knew what they planned, and both showed signs of their younger personalities when discussing it. As he returned to fashioning newels for the new fencing along the docks, Jack could not decide exactly how he felt about the incidents of the day.

“So, what was it like?” Fishlegs pestered Hiccup as they made a third attempt to affix the larger of the cogs too the main barrel of the waterwheel.

“What was what like?” Hiccup said and frowned at more than the difficult contraption. “Are you sure he made this to the right specifications?”

“You get to ask him that!”

“No thanks! Jack's mad enough at me as it is.”

“And why is that?” The wide-bodied Viking asked the thinner one.

Hiccup stared in the pudgy face of his close friend, narrowed his own, and said: “He told you, didn't he?”

Fishlegs shrugged and replied: “He didn't have to, Hiccup. I walked in on him while he had that far away look on his face. You know? The one when he's listening to them.”

Hiccup looked confused for a second while Fishlegs pointed up into the air. His eyes slowly widened as the realization Jack knew all day and said nothing stole over his brain. Hiccup could not decide if he should be angry or proud.

“He heard?” The lean Viking rhetorically queried.

“First time in ten years since he heard any of them. I think it sort of caught him by surprise,” Fishlegs told him.

“What did he say about it?”

“Well, he doesn't disagree with you about why you did it...”

Hiccup snorted in disbelief.

“He doesn't,” Fishlegs reasserted, “but I think you forget they told him needed to train and look after Isemaler... and that's no easy task. And you know how Jack gets when someone says he's got a job to do.”

Before Hiccup answered, he applied another layer of yak grease to the end of the barrel. He used a felt covered hammer to tap on the cog to get it to slide into place. It moved a little, but then seemed stuck. The once Viking chief grunted in frustration.

“Something's off with this,” he finally said after glaring at the two parts. “I think we should trim the barrel some more.”

“Fine,” Fishlegs agreed since they already argued about the prospect. “But I still think you need to ease up on Jack about this.”

“No, Fishlegs, I don't,” Hiccup hotly replied. “He always takes Isemaler's side over mine. He never really corrects that sheep-butt even when he makes the worst mistakes, and I'm tired of feeling like I come in second or third place with Jack. I'm sorry if I don't have a magical past behind me, but that's not my fault!”

“I meant the cog, Hiccup,” his friend spoke in a disapproving manner. “He worked a long time on making sure the splines mesh just like we asked. But about the other stuff... Jack trusts you won't start a war with some other clan because you tried to pull a stupid joke. He doesn't have to worry over you and feel like every little mistake you make is his fault. You put him in an unwinnable situation, Hiccup, and you don't even realize it! Gods, no wonder he's so afraid to talk to you!”

The vehemence in Fishlegs' voice caught Hiccup by surprise. However, as the words began to penetrate through his ire, he took notice. It stung him to think Jack feared talking with him about anything. Once upon a time they could discuss every topic under the sun. Nowadays they talked mostly about the forge and woodshop and what needed to get completed or the problems with production. On happier days they would discuss their dragons. He could not pinpoint the moment when it began to change between them, and yet Hiccup felt as though Isemaler played a large role in creating the gulf. What Fishlegs said, however, flew right into the face of his opinions. It disquieted Hiccup and stilled his anger. More importantly, it set his mind to real thinking.

“Sorry, Fishlegs,” he quietly said. “I didn't mean to yell at you or drag you into the middle of our problems.”

“Great Odin, Hiccup, but you're dense sometimes,” his friend rounded on him without accepting the apology. “This island is too small to avoid getting involved in other people's problems. If something affects you or Jack, it winds up affecting us all... just like if Valka is in a mood or Spitlout or Rancid or Astrid or just about every damn person who lives here! Sometimes I think you really need to get over yourself and see what's right in front of you!”


	2. Chapter 2

Fishlegs' tirade stayed with Hiccup for several days. He pressed the notion that Hiccup seemed to possess a secret resentment against everything around him, and it wore on people's nerves. No one, the tree trunk-shaped Viking stated, doubted Hiccup's intentions for the welfare of the clan, but his attitude ran sour years before and only got worse over time. Each time Hiccup tried to defend himself, Fishlegs verbally tore another strip out of him. Rarely did the man act so forward with anyone, and that alone gave Hiccup pause and reason to consider everything he said. It stayed with Hiccup long after Fishlegs ended his admonitions.

“Jack,” Hiccup said five days later as they sat eating their evening meal and discussed the ongoing problems with the waterwheel. “Can I ask you something?”

Jack simply looked up at him and nodded.

“Um, are you mad at me for banning Isemaler from the house?”

Jack felt a wave of shock roll through his body as the question hung in the air. He never expected Hiccup would raise the issue. As such, he did not prepare an answer he thought Hiccup might accept. To give himself a few more seconds to think, Jack took a swallow of his ale.

“Ah, I wouldn't say mad,” Jack finally answered.

“Then what would you say?” Hiccup countered.

“I don't want to say anything that's going to upset you, Hiccup.”

“Don't treat me like I'm sort of Mangler!”

Jack blinked and kept his face neutral.

“Like I just acted right now,” Hiccup replied to the blank expression. “Look, I don't want this to turn into a fight, but we need to talk, Jack. We don't do that anymore.”

“Because it turns into fights,” Jack replied using his mate's words.

Hiccup nodded. They silently ate their meal for several minutes. Each tried to find a way to express what they felt and wanted to say without antagonizing the other. It seemed an insurmountable chore.

“Hiccup, I'm really not angry you banished him,” Jack said when it seemed as though they would finish their meal in awkward silence yet again. “Actually, I kind of like the peace and quiet in the house.”

“Me, too,” Hiccup muttered.

“But your idea I care more about him than I do about you does make me mad.”

Hiccup felt his hand curl around his spoon. He counted in his head to keep from saying what first popped into his mind. Since avoiding what he thought proved impossible, he decided on a different tact.

“Can you understand what it looks like from my position?” Hiccup carefully asked.

“Maybe... I don't know. It's hard to figure out how you view things anymore,” Jack responded.

The Viking inhaled deeply when his felt his emotions start to boil. He thought about everything Fishlegs told him, and held tight to it. Hiccup took a moment to look into his anger and see the root of it. An argument as old as his relationship with Jack surfaced, and it stunned Hiccup. He glanced into the wary and watchful eyes of his mate. The expression unnerved the Viking.

“They cheated you,” Hiccup slowly said.

“Who cheated me how?” Jack cautiously inquired and did his level best to not make it a question about the man sitting across from him.

“Noro the Skydancer, The Man in the Moon, and... the other one.”

Jack's mouth fell open. He could imagine a whole host of answers, but that one took him aback. He blinked at Hiccup.

“Jack, how does forcing you... playing on your really intense sense of duty... to babysit and train Isemaler leave you any time to live your life here? If you can explain how that's fair to you, to me, then I'd really like to hear it,” Hiccup stated his case without sounding exceedingly infuriated.

“Because... Hiccup, some things are greater than you and me...”

“Stop being a Guardian for one damn second!” Hiccup yelled and half-stood. “Just be you, Jack. Just be human for one pocking moment of your life! Just be with me and not... not... not with any of that. Can't you remember for one day your alive and real... and that I want it to be just us?”

It felt like someone opened the ash door on the forge while the bellows were in operation. A wave of heat washed over Jack as Hiccup's fury exploded out of him. He sensed the palpable rage, but mostly he felt the hurt emanating out of his mate. Guilt coursed through Jack, but he could not dodge the truth nestled deep within him. Jack resorted to banking on over three hundred years of living to guide him.

“Hiccup, I can't,” he quietly intoned. “It doesn't matter what I look like here or anywhere. I am Guardian. I will always be a Guardian. I just can't stop doing that. It's not like there's a switch in my head I can throw to turn it on and off. It's who I am, Hiccup. You can't have one part of me without the other.”

In an instant everything inside of Hiccup stilled. The anger melted away, the fury and rage subsided, and in its place he found only sadness. Something precious slipped out of his fingers, and he could feel himself losing hold of it. Hiccup looked at Jack, but he did not see the brown-haired mortal. He only saw an immensely powerful creature pretending to be human. He saw Jack spoke the truth, and it wiped away the last ten years of their life together because the truth exposed it as a sham. Hiccup realized he always knew what it meant, and now he forced himself to accept it.

“I can't do this anymore. I can't go on pretending we have a normal life when we don't. You're just going through the motions, Jack,” Hiccup said and watched Jack's face fall. “I know you care about me, but I think it's in the way you care about everyone as a Guardian. That's who you are. I get it now... maybe I've always know, but I can't live with that. I don't want Jack Frost the Guardian: I want Jack, the flesh and blood man I fell in love with who deserved to have a life.”

“Hiccup,” Jack said the name with a fear lancing through every syllable.

Hiccup finished standing. He set down his spoon. It took every ounce of strength to hold back the tears and accept what the cool, rational part of his mind told him. He looked into the brown eyes he once thought of as so human and warm.

“We can't go on like this, Jack. It has to end. You can go back to Earth... or maybe just float around with Isemaler. I can't care anymore. It hurts too much. Maybe you should tell Aita you're ready to listen to the song because I think you really need to be a Guardian more than you need to be part of us,” Hiccup flatly stated.

Tears streaked down Jack's cheeks as he listened to the dry delivery. Hiccup slowly shook his head. He felt devoid of any feeling. He saw the pain on Jack's face, but he did not trust it to be real. Over the years he heard what Jack thought about his existence as a Guardian so many times it completely obscured what the man thought about his life as a mortal. It made sense to Hiccup because he, himself, could not entirely separate his life from that of Toothless'. With that, he walked away from the table and toward the stairs.

“Hiccup,” Jack whispered the name as he felt his heart breaking.

He never imagined they would reach this point. It always appeared he and Hiccup could find a solution to any problem if they just put their minds together. He understood what the Viking wanted, but he did not know how to divest the part that gave shape to so much of himself. Jack needed to acknowledge he would always be a Guardian. He could not lie to himself regarding the purpose around which his life centered. The fact he would return to it when Hiccup died, or more precisely when his physical being came to an end on Halla, became a future focal point. He knew the outcome of his life, as did Hiccup. Jack pressed his face into his hands as he wept and could not find a means to salvage the situation. He could feel the part of himself shaped like Hiccup begin to detach and tear away no matter how hard he tried to mentally hold on.

Hiccup stood in the enormous loft bedroom, one he and Jack expanded when IceSpike entered their lives and they realized the room could not hold two people, a night fury, and a woolly howl. At the time it seemed to encapsulate the method of their life: make room for huge changes and accept things would never be fully settled. Hiccup could accept the dragon that ultimately accepted the unique person of Jack. However, Isemaler became more erratic once Jack landed a dragon. Somehow the beast seemed a threat to the immortal. Hiccup tried to discuss it with his mate, but it erupted into one of their first long-lasting, real, and very tense fights. For almost a year they hotly debated the issue until they finally agreed to just let it drop. Like the bedroom, it became a symbol for part of their life, but not a good one.

The Viking found an old tote bag he used to haul spare tail pieces when he, Jack, Toothless, and IceSpike would sneak away for a few days of relaxation. Of course, Isemaler tended to find them where they secreted themselves because no place on the planet could block him. As he grabbed clothing and other items he knew he would need, Jack felt a renewed ire toward the Hallan Spirit of Winter Joy. What at first seemed a perfect solution to Jack needing to fulfill his elemental role on Halla quickly became a complete intrusion. Bit by bit, week after week, Jack sought to train Isemaler in his duties and how to use the extraordinary power. Month by month it gradually consumed Jack until Isemaler became a permanent fixture in their lives, and one that took top priority. It dawned on Hiccup he violently jammed things into the pack and might break something, if not his hand.

Jack sat at the table staring into his bowl of soup with the soggy lumps of bread floating on the surface. He tried to retrace every day of the last ten years to see when they possibly could alter the present outcome. He remembered when Hiccup started to become severely agitated by Isemaler's constant presence, but it could not be avoided. Halla could not afford to a creature like Isemaler running loose and wild with such potent abilities. Jack marked the moment when the woodworking shop became his own, and he no longer needed Hiccup to help him organize and run the affairs of the shop. He could understand how Hiccup might feel as though Jack cut him out of part of his life. Finally, the moment when they discovered Gobber's lifeless body and Grump nowhere to be found seemed to carve a straight line to the last ten minutes of their life together.

“He was old,” Jack whispered. “He needed to be at peace. His body hurt him all the time.”

Jack knew about death from several perspectives. He recalled watching everyone he knew in mortal life on Earth slowly pass away. He often grieved for family and friends who did not know he could see them. The image of death both as a lightless void and an ever shifting personae would never leave his mind. He knew Aita, regardless of form, on too intimate a basis. Leiyís'axt warned him on several occasions to put aside the knowledge of death somewhere safe and deep in him mind lest it drive to Jack to distraction at inopportune times. Jack tried to console Hiccup in the days after Gobber's death, but he sensed he failed in several important ways. Jack spoke about the inevitability of death; whereas Hiccup lived with the inevitability. From that moment on, Jack felt something harden in his mate.

The footsteps on the stairs sounded dull and hollow. Jack noted the extra weight to the footfalls, and he feared the worst. The feet approached him, but he did not turn around. He waited for Hiccup to draw up alongside. When he did, Jack stared blankly at the overstuffed satchel. It seemed too real.

“I can't stay here,” Hiccup told him in muted tones. “Too many... memories of things I don't want to remember anymore. The house is yours, Jack, for as long as you need it. I'll go to the dragon caves first and work something out later.”

“You don't have to do this, Hiccup,” Jack pleaded.

Hiccup shifted on his feet before he said: “How can I stay knowing you won't ever really be mine? I can't spend my life competing against things I'll never be and with what you won't give up. It's not fair of me to ask to stop being a Guardian when you can't do it, but... I... that's not how I imagined life with you. It's not a life. It's... just make believe.”

“Please,” the immortal hidden in Hallan flesh begged yet again.

“Will anything change, Jack?”

Silence reigned in the house.

“And that's why I can stay and live like this anymore,” Hiccup said after an interminable pause. “I'll always care about you, love you in some way, and I'll always be your friend. I promised you that, and I'll stick to it. But this...”

He quit talking and started walking. Jack sat in the chair unable to move. Something in the center of his chest felt overly large and unimaginably heavy. It held him in one place. It paralyzed him. His eyes stayed glued to the bowl of cold soup. The door opened. Feet stepped out onto the porch. The door closed. Jack flinched at the sound. He cried without making a sound. He saw death once, Aita, in the midst of doing what it did. It left him rattled and shaken to the core. This, however, he could not describe. It seemed a wail that would echo to Earth and back got trapped in his chest. It robbed him of his ability to make a sound. Jack sat gasping for breath.

Barely a minute passed, although it seemed a small eternity to Jack, before he felt the slick and warm head of IceSpike slide into his lap. The broad scales along her head and back lay flattened against her hide. IceSpike made a cooing, almost a keening sound. Jack pushed the table away with strength he thought fled from his limbs. Then he bent at the waist and curled around the head of his dear dragon. He never fully appreciated the bond between man and beast, between Hiccup and Toothless, until the day the woolly howl pressed her nose into Jack's outstretched hand. A new bond got formed, and it informed Jack of much to which he remained ignorant during his first year on Halla. At the moment, it felt like IceSpike offered the only attachment he could find within the world. Jack wept, and the dragon comforted her rider as best she could.

Hiccup left the house and walked along the path past the Great Hall and toward the dragon caves. His movements felt mechanical, and it seemed certain to him they appeared that way. Halfway between the Great Hall and the cavern he heard a very familiar sound: the rustle of wing mainsails as they angled and billowed to slow flight speed. The warble of Toothless echoed around his head. Hiccup stopped.

“Yeah, it's me, bud,” he said in a small voice.

The night fury banked, tilted, and came to a perfect landing next to the Viking. Toothless walked up to him, and Hiccup could see the confusion on the winged beast's face. The human closed the gap with the dragon. He looked deep into the creature's green-yellow eye seeking solace. Toothless made his questioning gurgle.

“We're gonna go live in the caves with all your friends for a while,” he told Toothless, and his voice quavered. “Jack and me... it's just not gonna work. He's a Guardian, and I respect him so much for what he's done... does on Earth, but that's not what I want or need. He cares too much about that, so I guess I have to start caring more about myself and you. It'll be okay.”

As he spoke the last words, Hiccup raised his arms and encircled them around the sturdy neck of the one he considered his best friend. It did not take long before the emotions began to overwhelm him, and Hiccup's iron hold on himself began to break. He cried into the neck of Toothless. As always, the dragon unfurled his wings and surrounded his rider within the protective embrace. For over a year Hiccup lived with the fear he and Jack would reach this point, and it got worse the less Jack did to reverse course. Hearing the man say he could not disentangle himself from from his role as a Guardian, even though he did not perform the duty on Halla, finally caused the relationship to break. It also broke Hiccup at the same time because in spite of all he said he continued to desperately love Jack. The loss of his leg back in his youth meant nothing to how he felt at the moment. Once more, he became certain the dragon saved him again. In the closeness of his best friend, Hiccup allowed himself to feel the pain he held off for as long as he could.

On an island the size of Berk, it took less than a day for the residents to learn the news. For many it came as a shock, while some saw it as an inevitability. They argued Jack would forever be a disappointment to Hiccup because he did not hail from the island and did not look or act like a true Viking. Regardless of how much Jack contributed to the welfare of Berk, a small minority continued to view him as a complete outsider. No one appeared to know exactly what to think about Hiccup, and, thus, little got said. When word got out he kept himself sequestered in the dragon caves, it seemed logical to most everyone. Few seemed to know how to separate what they thought about their former chieftain from the creatures he taught them to love and respect. Hence, they gave him space and time.

On the second day after the split with Jack, Hiccup sat in one of the unused storage rooms he quickly converted into his quarters. Any who tried to help him learned to leave him in peace. He threw a dark, menacing glare at all but one who approached him. Valka, his mother, seemed impervious to his baleful glance. After the morning feeding, of which Hiccup performed his part, and the care of the injured, he went back to his room. His mother followed after ensuring no one happened to be near.

“Hiccup?” She quietly said his name.

“Just go away,” he instructed her.

“No.”

Hiccup gave her the look when Valka entered his room. She leaned against the doorway. Son and mother cast furtive glances.

“Well? Aren't you going to say it?” Hiccup glumly inquired when he could no longer stand the tense silence.

“Say what?” Valka calmly counter-questioned.

“That you told me so.”

“I never said anything of the sort, Hiccup.”

“Then what do you have to say?” He angrily pressed her.

She sighed, stared him in the eye, and said: “That I can't begin to understand what you're going through... and that I'm here if you need to talk or even want to yell at someone.”

Her answer befuddled Hiccup. She stood wearing her sturdy, coarse woven coveralls that proved remarkably durable given the environment. The dull brown color hid the worst of the stains. The purpose they served spared her other clothing, usually her riding leathers, from wear and tear. Because of the effectiveness of the garment, most of the other workers in the dragon caves also commissioned a set for themselves. Her dark ocher hair, shot through with too much gray in Hiccup's opinion, got pulled into a tight bun on the back of her head. At the moment a baby terrible terror decided to use it as a perch. What should be a ridiculous combination befit her life's work and preferred station.

“Hiccup, what finally pushed you to this point?” Valka gingerly asked.

“A lot of things,” he tersely replied, “and they got all twisted together.”

Her eyes, similar in color to her son's, did not appear judgmental.

“He... can't stop being a Guardian even when he isn't one here,” Hiccup said in a hollow voice. 

“But you knew what he was before beginning this relationship.”

“I did, but... somehow... I thought there'd be more room for us... more care and time for me instead of... other things..”

“Isemaler?” Valka knowingly queried.

Hiccup felt his face grow hot and did not say a word.

She nodded and said: “I wondered how long it'd be before he caused a... complication.”

“Complication? Mom, it's a pocking nightmare!” He blurted at her.

“Language, son,” she corrected him as only she could do since Gobber's death. “Jack still can't make him follow simple rules?”

“How about he won't. Isemaler does stuff and Jack thinks we're just supposed to put up with it ‘cause Isemaler is still learning to be whatever he is.”

“Jack's overblown sense of responsibility again?”

Hiccup snorted in the affirmative.

“So where do things go from here?” She asked without giving her opinion on anything Hiccup said.

“Jack can stay in the house. I can't live there: not with all those... memories floating around. I'll figure out something after a while. Maybe I can build a small place near the dragon caverns,” he told her what fragment of a plan he considered.

“Well, I trust you'll do what's right. You're your own man, son, but I'm here if you need to bounce words off of somebody,” she said in the oddly comforting way only a mother could. “Oh, Tuffnut asked if you could stop by their house. Apparently one of them knocked the dragon door off its hinges.”

“Sure,” he agreed.

Valka gave him a small smile. He nodded. She turned to leave.

“Thanks, Mom,” he quietly but firmly told her.

“It's part of my responsibility, Hiccup,” Valka replied. “Don't forgot: I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Valka departed as silently as she arrived. She also closed the rather battered door behind her even though he did not ask. Hiccup sat alone in his rocky chamber, a single tallow candle offered a thin yellow light that only served to deepen some of the shadows. He stared into those and tried to plot the course of his life. For the last ten years he always assumed it would involve Jack even when at his angriest. Now he needed to plan a solo life. The thought made him freeze for a moment, and tears edged down his face. It seemed painfully surreal to Hiccup he simply got up and left his home, but months – years – of feeling as though Jack did not fully invest himself in their relationship caused him to act. That and what he discussed with Fishlegs several days beforehand.

On the other side of the village Jack stood at his worktable staring at the pieces for an inlay panel on a shield. It depicted a sheep in a Viking helmet charging at a group of marauders, an image based on a local legend. Jack did not believe it after seeing how docile sheep tended to act. However, the tale of the warrior sheep persisted. A customer paid, so he relented and created the design. As he worked throughout the morning, Jack started to hear the whispers. Both his and Hiccup's name came up repeatedly as people stopped by for various reasons. Some of the villages gave him a funny look, and a few appeared downright hostile. The clannish mindset of the people of Berk never escaped his notice. He thought back to the civil war and remembered anew just how mired they could become in their thinking. As a result, Jack kept to himself and worked steadily throughout the day.

“How are you holding up?” A friendly voice inquired later in the afternoon.

Jack turned to see Fishlegs watching him, and said: “I, ah, guess as well as can be expected.”

“You know why he left, don't you?”

While others might be put off by the blunt nature of the question, Jack found relief at least one person possessed the bravery to address the central topic. He twisted his head to the side to see if Fishlegs' face could give him a hint as to the demeanor of the question. He saw only honest curiosity befitting their style of friendship.

“Hiccup made that exceptionally clear,” he flatly reported

“I tried to get him to see this from your perspective,” Fishlegs informed him.

“Thanks,” Jack said, he meant it, but he did not sound entirely grateful.

The rotund Viking walked into the workshop and around a few pieces of furniture Jack assembled in a dry-fit manner to check for any defects. Jack watched his progress and could not figure out the intent of his friend. However, seeing as he did not appear to have any stalwart allies at the moment, he felt indebted to the man. The studied scrutiny of Fishlegs in the silence of his shop became awkward after a few moments.

“Fishlegs?” Jack asked with the name.

“Something doesn't add up,” his friend began at a low volume. “First, he always knew exactly what you are, so his sudden focus on you're Guardian status doesn't make sense.”

“It does, believe it or not. He wants me to forgot the reason why I exist on Earth while I'm Halla and... I can't do it, Fishlegs. I never stop thinking about that, and Hiccup felt cheated because of it,” Jack said and looked down at the floor where curls of wood lay scattered. “He's not wrong.”

“But that doesn't mean he's right. I can't imagine how much worse it would be if Isemaler didn't have you around to at least reminded him to control his power,” the Viking openly conjectured.

Jack shrugged.

“Do you honestly care more about what Isemaler does than your relationship with Hiccup?”

“Of course not, but... I do have a serious responsibility to Isemaler. It took me three hundred years to really learn to use my abilities, and he's only got me as a teacher for maybe sixty years at best,” he refuted and explained.

“Ah, but didn't you say you couldn't really affect anything for the longest time ‘til you got a more... I think subtle sense of control?” Fishlegs asked, and his incisive mind displayed itself once again.

Jack turned his head at an angle as he tried to divine his friend's ultimate meaning. Fishlegs repeatedly proved he did listen to what others said. The man leaned against the edge of the workbench. It squeaked as the weight of the Viking settled against it.

“Jack, did you ever think maybe there was a reason why the moon guy who made you left you alone for so long and in such a way where you couldn't harm anything as you figured out what you could and couldn't do?”

Jack's mouth fell open a small amount. How they traversed from the breakup with Hiccup to the means by which Jack learned about his powers almost baffled him, and yet he felt Fishlegs already reached a conclusion. It seemed the man wanted to lead him down a specific path of logic.

“Maybe you didn't,” Fishlegs mumbled and then cleared his throat. “What I'm trying to say is I think all the time you spent alone you were supposed to spend alone so you could understand what you could do. As long as you're here, Isemaler doesn't need to rely on himself: he's got you to provide answers.”

Jack scratched the side of his face with a blunt awl tipped with hardened gum he used to position and insert pieces of inlay. He began to see the thread his brilliant friend stretched out before him. He also saw how it connected to Hiccup.

“So... maybe Hiccup was right when he said it wasn't fair I got asked to train Isemaler,” Jack said, but it came out as a half-formed speculation.

“But they did, so... what happens now?” Fishlegs abruptly turned back to the main issue.

“I don't know. I haven't seen him since Hiccup got him banished. It's kind of worrying me.”

Fishlegs folded his arms across his ample chest. His eyes narrowed, and it always meant his mind worked on a problem. As the seconds rolled by, Jack started to get a bit nervous. He could not decipher the expression.

“He's right; Hiccup that is. You do care more about Isemaler than you do about him,” the man told him.

Jack felt himself become instantly angry.

“Get mad if you helps, but so far I haven't heard you say one thing about how you think Hiccup is doing. I can tell you're upset, but I don't really know about what.”

“You pile of dung!” Jack growled at him. “You don't really understand anything I... or him have gone through!”

“Considering I talk to both of you and keep your secrets, you'd be surprised how much I do,” Fishlegs said without any hint of contrition. “But I will tell you this: Groanhilde said no the first three times I asked her to marry me. Know why?”

Jack searched his memory. His brain coughed out the relevant fact, but only in a limited way. He pondered the times Fishlegs showed up at the house depressed because first he fell in love with Groanhilde, but then over the times she refused his offer. As he racked his brain, Jack discovered he did not know the reasons why she denied his friend. A weird pang of guilt twanged in his chest, and it did nothing to improve his mood.

“I thought so,” Fishlegs said in a disapproving manner, but then adjusted himself. “She refused to marry me because she said I was more in love with Meatlug and the devices I made, all the planning with Hiccup, and the drafting I constantly did than I was with her. It mad me angry at first, Jack, but then I began to see how she was right. It forced me to change how I lived my life.”

“Oh, so you're saying Hiccup walking out on me is supposed to make me a better person?” Jack hotly contested.

“Emphasis on person. You don't need to be a better Guardian here because that's – not – your – job!”

“You don't think I'm a good person?”

Fishlegs actually leaned back a little from the hostility in the question before he replied: “No, I think you're a good person. I think you're a great person because of the way you care about others. It's probably what makes you a good Guardian, but it makes you a terrible... mate... husband to Hiccup. Sometimes he needed to be at the top of your list, but when was the last time you actually placed him there?”

If anything proved Fishlegs no longer feared Jack as an elemental immortal, the tenor and tone of his voice said it for him. He openly risked making Jack angry and did not appear the least hesitant about doing it. Jack, for his part, stared at Fishlegs with a few malicious ideas in his head. However, the tingling sensation of energy reacting to his silent summons did not materialize.

“Did you just come over hear to torture me? Make fun of what happened between Hiccup and me? ‘Cause if you did, you accomplished your mission!” Jack barked at him.

“I came to talk to you as your friend, Jack,” Fishlegs rejoined without backing down. He leaned harder against the bench, and it slid back by an inch. “Listen, I could see the mistake you were making, but it came too late because I didn't see what I was doing ‘til it was almost too late with Groanhilde. By the time I got that fixed... I didn't know how to tell you, and I knew Hiccup already told you several times.”

Anger and resentment warred in Jack because Fishlegs did, indeed, know of the private history between he and Hiccup. That his friend also connected it to personal experience made it harder to dismiss. Jack almost started grinding his teeth.

“You are not a Guardian here, Jack, and you'd better get it through your head if you want any hope of saving anything between you and Hiccup,” the stout man firmly told him. “And you have to put limits on how much you're willing to be Isemaler's teacher. The sooner you shove him out the door and tell him to figure it out for himself, the better you'll both be!”

“I can't do that!” Jack half-shouted, and then remembered they did not speak in absolute private. He set the tool down for fear of throwing it his friend. “He has full power, Fishlegs, and he doesn't know how to control it. Think about that for one small second: do you want me to set him loose in full force and let him make up his own mind on how to use it?”

A look of concern flashed across the Viking's face.

“Did you forget that time when he started a brutal, deadly battle with just a snowball?”

“No, I didn't, but you didn't throw it!”

The two men glared at one another.

“You were promised a life here as a... living person... mortal, I guess, but look what they did to you? You've been made the caretaker of someone who, and let's be honest, really shouldn't have all that power yet. It's like those god people are punishing you for bringing something special... wonderful to this world. They're not letting you live: they're making you pay!”

Jack blinked at Fishlegs. He did not think for one second Hiccup would tell the man that particular piece of information. Speaking of the powerful entities of Halla tended to make Fishlegs very nervous, as though he feared they would become offended. However, his friend seemed to put that aside and spoke without fear. Moreover, it perfectly meshed with one of the last things Hiccup said on his way out the door. The logical and rational part of his mind felt as though it got caught in a snare. It managed to beat back some of the heated emotions in his chest.

Fishlegs did not stay much longer. He implored Jack to think about what they discussed. The man gave him one bit of hope in saying there might yet be time to salvage the relationship with Hiccup, but it required conscious and direct action while admitting to mistakes of the past. Fishlegs departed with a somewhat snide comment about needing to go home to take care of his wife. The quip left Jack aggravated, but also highlighted a specific point Fishlegs made. With his head in a jumble, he decided to close shop for the day even though he needed to complete some pieces. As he snuffed out the lamps, some of which he only lit a short while before, Jack realized he could not accurately recall the last time he left the workshop so early. That point, too, got add to the swamp inside of his skull.

The village did talk. They talked the next day when Hiccup returned to the forge and continued his work as the master smith. It became quite clear an invisible wall existed between the smithy and the woodworking shop. Hiccup and Jack only exchanged what information they needed to conduct business, but otherwise did not interact with one another. Fartbritches and Mouldy worked almost exclusively with one another and did their best to stay out of Hiccup's way. Hiccup focused on completing several pieces needed for the waterwheel and making new, stronger hinges for the dragon door at the Thorston compound. Using the heavy hammer on glowing steel helped dispel some of his frustrations and hurt. Jack only found solace and respite by pouring himself into the inlay work on the shield. It required a lot of his attention to make final small adjustments to pieces and hold them down while the glue took hold. An odd silence seized the workshops despite the activity of four craftsman.

“Oh, good, you're making them,” Ruffnut's voice sliced through the clang of the anvil and the hiss of the bellows. “Smellied wants to know if you can make an extra set so we've got it just in case. And I think you know just in case means we'll definitely need them sooner rather than later.”

“Subtle, Ruffnut, as always,” Hiccup replied in a droll voice. “And I'm way ahead of you. I'm just finishing the knuckles on the third set of plates, and then all I need to do is roll and head the pins.”

“You are one smart man,” said the woman with an enormous blonde braid running down her back. “And I heard you and Skinny are on the outs with each other. How'd that happen? I thought someone sewed you two together.”

“Any chance you could be a little more delicate?”

“I could, but it'd take too much time, and Barf gets bored trying to keep Belch from eating the kids.”

Several faces turned to stare in horror at the woman. She shrugged and did not seem put off by the sudden and intense scrutiny. She did appear to note the looks thrown at her. Ruffnut never gave up her manner of dress from their days at Dragon's Edge. On more than one occasion Hiccup heard her claim the protective gear worked better with children than with dragons. Hence, she donned a stiff leather vest over her heavy short-sleeved shirt. The matching leather skirt imparted a whimsical if demented aspect to her bearing. He yak-hide boots with the fur turned outward only completed the ensemble and bewildered a good number of people.

“Don't worry: he swallows them whole and we can get them out in time. If we didn't, Belch would choke to death,” Ruffnut said as if none should worry over the situation, and she did not seem to care about anyone's reaction over where she placed her concern. “So what finally broke the razorwing's back with him?”

“It's really none of your business, and I don't feel like discussing it in public,” Hiccup told her in a flinty voice.

“Probably ‘cause one of you can't get pregnant, huh? The snot that comes out of kids does a good job at keeping a couple together... and I mean that physically as well!”

“You really don't know how to shut up, do you?”

“Just trying to help an old friend,” Tuffnut said, and anyone within earshot knew she meant it. “So, ah, you think it's safe to go talk to Skinny? We need some repairs on furniture. Tuffnut's youngest started teething, and he's showing her how it's done on the chair legs. That girl is going to have one strong set of choppers by the time Tuff finishes with her.”

“The word mental doesn't mean anything to you, does it?” Hiccup sarcastically asked.

“Like as in of or relating to the mind, or relating to the total emotional and intellectual response of an individual to external reality?”

“Like as in insane.”

“Oh, the colloquial definition,” she said with a wink. “I get where you're coming from, and I'll go easy on Skinny.”

“He's over in the woodshop,” Hiccup conceded the argument, or rather gave up since it would carry on far longer than he wished, and decided to let Jack deal with the woman.

“Thanks, Hiccup, and send a message terror up to the manor when the hinges are done.”

He nodded and went back to heating the pieces of metal while she strolled further into the workshop.

Jack overheard the entire conversation and steeled himself for the encounter. He found Ruffnut extraordinarily brave and a very capable warrior. She and her brother also displayed incredible deftness as dragon riders when the mood struck them. However, neither Ruffnut or Tuffnut thought like anyone else. Even worse, they understood one another when nobody else could make heads or tails of what they said. It came as a shock that either landed a mate. It stunned the entire community when Tuffnut and Bristlechin, his wife, invited Ruffnut and Smellied, her husband, to take up lodging in cobbled-together expanse they called Thorston Manor. Against every conceivable probability, the foursome actually made the arrangement work. It continued to work when the children started arriving. The village came to harbor a secret apprehension about Thorston Manor and its occupants, Jack included.

“Heya, Skinny,” Ruffnut croaked at him and used the nickname he detested. “Now that you and Hiccup ain't a thing anymore, you'll have time to swing by and fix some furniture for us. Right?”

Jack stared at her for a moment and said: “What's my name?”

“Skinny.”

“Then I don't have time,” he replied and bent down to continue work on the shield inlay.

“Aw, come on, Jack. Don't be a spoilsport. I don't mean anything by it,” Ruffnut said to him without an ounce of apology in her voice.

Jack ignored her.

“Gonna play hard to get, huh, now that you're a free man? You know, there are lots of Thorstons out there who aren't married, and I don't mean just the girls,” she told him as if the news might be an enticing. “We might be able to find a fella that'll settle for you, but I ain't making any guarantees there'll be bliss in the bedroom.”

Jack found her comments so offensive it left him speechless and unable to properly marshal his anger to aim it at her. When he looked up at the woman, Ruffnut winked at him as though she battered for a used wagon. It dawned on him for millionth time it never registered on her, or her brother, when they crossed a line and left it miles behind them. It robbed him of his self-righteous indignation.

“We've got lots of work for ya ‘cause of all those little Thorstons running around... and the fact Barf and Belch live in the house, too. We got the idea from you and Hiccup,” Ruffnut continued.

“A sheep, a wheel of the good yak cheese, and two drums of Barf's gas,” Jack found himself laying out the price before he could think it through and reject the offer.

“Pretty steep, Ski... Jack.”

“Accept it or no deal, and it's only for a day's labor.”

“A day? There's more than a day's work in our place. We could keep you busy for a week!” The woman railed at him.

Jack bowed his head to check the alignment of the wood pieces. He heard Mouldy laughing in the background. It told him he thwarted Ruffnut before she could take advantage of his offer. Daft she might be, but not stupid.

“Okay, okay. Deal,” she grumbled and then brightened. “So, what happened with you and Hiccup.”

“It's personal and private,” Jack said and it flew automatically from his mouth.

“You know we're gonna find out, so you might as well spill it.”

He lifted his head, looked her dead in the eye, and said in as flat a voice as he could muster: “Hiccup wanted to burn your house down while you were sleeping, and I stopped him. He got mad and that was that.”

“Really? Ya think you know a guy your whole life and then he goes and plans something like that. It's always the bossy ones who surprise you,” Ruffnut said and did not appear put off by the blatant lie.

“It's the quiet ones, Ruff, not the bossy ones,” Fartbritches informed her as he walked past carrying a bucket of slag to place out back for the lava-breed dragons to fight over.

“I don't know. You can never tell with the quiet ones: they don't say anything,” she rejoined.

“Even after ten years you continued to amaze me,” Jack muttered.

“And that's what makes the Thorstons so special! So, what day are you stopping by?”

“Give me two days. I've some orders in front of yours I need to finish first,” he told her.

“Call it deal.”

She spit in her hand and extended it. Jack did likewise. Ruffnut and Tuffnut remained about the only two who continued to use the age-old method of sealing a bargain. However, they considered it more binding than law and never reneged on a spit-shake transaction. Thus, they shook once in a solemn manner, nodded to each other, and released their hands with the contract made. Even though he expected his nerves and wits would be frazzled by the end of that particular future work day, he considered it a fair exchange.

“Okay, Skinny, see you on the third morning!” Ruffnut said as she wandered away from him.

“Bye, you hagfish,” he loudly returned.

Several people laughed when Ruffnut scrunched up her shoulders. However, she did not throw another barb at him. In the past Jack routinely bested her during insult contests. She did not know he possessed over three hundred years of engaging with children and an entire other culture from which to pick a wicked taunt. Once she left, Mouldy stuck his head into the woodshop.

“Hiccup says not to use him in your arguments with anyone, and he says you know why,” the man told him.

“Oh, really,” Jack said and the request rankled him. “Inform Hiccup that his deal with that one lady only covered one house. Tell him I'm sending a visitor to the dragon caves.”

“I'll tell him, but I'm not you guys' pocking messenger terror,” Mouldy said in a huff and left.

A minute later he heard Hiccup start to swear, and Jack grinned in an empty but menacing fashion.


	3. Chapter 3

Within a week Hiccup and Jack went from avoidance and silence with one another to a form of low-level hostility. Neither could admit it gave an outlet to the pain each felt at the separation. People in town at first took sides until they realized it effected the quality of the work performed for them or a flat-out refusal by either to accept new jobs. Fartbritches and Mouldy learned to navigate the minefield between the two by adamantly refusing to carry messages or get involved. Both Hiccup and Jack accused Fishlegs of trying to curry favor with the other as the chubby Viking attempted to arbitrate between them. The invectives got got so bad he finally refused to discuss any but the most banal topics with either of them. The Thorstons, as usual, remained impervious and carried on as if the two men enjoyed the row between them. Valka refused to take sides and treated each man equally. Without a doubt, no one the island got spared.

“He what?” Hiccup said to Mouldy following the contentious week. “Why didn't he ask Jack?”

“I don't know, and I don't care. I delivered the message, and now I want to get away from you,” the man bluntly told his colleague and titular trade master.

Hiccup stared in amazement when Mouldy calmly turned and walked back to the forge where he heated a piece of metal. It took him a few minutes to figure out how he would ask Jack for any small scraps of seasoned wood with which he might be willing to part. Given the acidity of the last few days, it seemed a daunting task. However, a request from Snotlout came as an utter shock to him and an opportunity he could not casually dismiss. Therein he found a means to approach the Guardian in disguise. Hiccup removed his dragon hide apron, bequeathed to him on Gobber's death, carefully laid it across the anvil he more or less claimed as personal property, and began a slow walk to the other side of the shop.

Jack lightly sanded the shield in preparation for the last coat of lacquer he would apply. The feuding with Hiccup burned into more of his time than he realized, and the fact he lost an entire day working at Thorston Manor, meant he fell behind schedule on some projects. Goatteeth, however, seemed amiable enough when she saw the inlay progress on the shield she would present to her husband as a gift. She granted Jack as much time as he needed to complete the work so long as it got finished within the next eight-day. Jack promised it within two days. Thus, he plied a critical eye to his handiwork when he saw movement in his periphery. Hiccup walked resolutely, if slowly, toward him. Jack felt his hackles raise.

“I'm not on this side ‘cause I want to be,” Hiccup said when he got within three feet. “I'm here because Snotlout made a request.”

Jack felt his eyebrows raise up to the middle of his forehead. He peered at the Viking's face for any sign of duplicity and found none. It took a moment before he schooled his face not a neutral expression.

“He wants to know if you have any scraps of seasoned hardwood he could have. Anything about the size of a fist,” Hiccup said in a bland tone.

“Uh, yeah. Snotlout wants that?” Jack agreed and asked with incredulity he could not keep from his voice.

“I don't get it, either, but... well, any chance to go talk to him without it looking like I'm prying.”

“Right. Right.”

The two silently regarded one another for a few seconds. After having spent eight days arguing and sniping at one another over almost any issue, most of which centered on Jack refusing to do any detail work on the waterwheel, it seemed odd they needed to combine efforts for so small a request. Since he could not think of what else to say, Jack went over to his scrap bin and began to rummage around. He held onto the spare bits and pieces because they often came in handy for repair jobs or smaller work. It took a few minutes, but he managed to find six pieces that seemed to fit the bill, and then he added two more larger hunks just in case. In a deft motion he bound the pieces together with some twine using the two longer pieces as splints. This he handed to Hiccup.

“That was... oddly impressive,” Hiccup said as he turned the bundle over in his hands examining the manner used to truss it together.

“Tell Snotlout he can come to me directly for more if needs to,” Jack stated. “I used to wonder who was raiding the scraps out back. Turns out it wasn't just dragons.”

“Yeah, I will. Thanks, Jack,” Hiccup said and then pivoted on one heel to begin his egress out of the woodshop.

“You're welcome,” Jack replied in a nearly hospitable tone.

Hiccup bobbed his head and continued walking. He walked through the smithy area and out the door. The calls by people wanting a moment of his time went ignored. The summer day already proved hotter than expected, and he began to sweat by the time he reached the outer edge of the village and aimed for the trail leading to some of the more remote homes. Following the war, Snotlout moved away from his parents and family, mainly due to the excessive drinking that took hold of his life following the demise of his dragon, and squatted in one of the houses damaged during the fighting. No one contested his usurpation of the dwelling. Over time Snotlout managed to repair it in a haphazard fashion. Few ever saw him in the village, and the man kept to himself in such a manner as to become a virtual hermit. Hiccup reviewed the previous few times he saw Snotlout, and none of them ended on a positive note.

“Three years? Four?” Hiccup said aloud as he tried to guess the amount of time that elapsed since he last saw his childhood friend on a one-to-one basis.

As he thought about it, he remembered Snotlout sometimes made a showing at the village meetings, usually during elections of the new council members. He never spoke during the general forum, but Hiccup recalled some people complained about the smell of distilled spirits coming off of the man. It indicated the reclusive ex-dragon rider continued his affair with hard drink as of a few years ago. As the ex-chief followed the curve of the trail around the small set of hills that guarded the village form the north winds during the winter, Hiccup realized he rarely visited that side of the village. It seemed to be the place where the disaffected, the disenfranchised, or the unwanted tended to congregate. That part of Berk did not boast many people, but it struck Hiccup as wrong they should be ignored by the others. He began to think about making a proposal to the council regarding the self-imposed outcasts.

“Wow, he cleaned it up,” the Viking remarked when he saw Snotlout's house.

The once ramshackle three-room dwelling with the steeply pitched roof, done to keep it from collapsing under the weight of snow accumulation, appeared very orderly. It contrasted sharply with Hiccup's last remembrance of the place. Trash no longer littered the grounds. Broken windows got replaced, new wood lined the outer walls in places, and the roof looked recently repaired. Hiccup felt unsettled by the changes for reasons he could not entirely explain. He wondered at the alterations as he finished his walk and began climbing the three short steps leading up to the small porch. Without warning, the freshly painted door flew open. Snotlout stood before Hiccup looking like a slightly grizzled but younger and thinner version of Spitlout, his father. Hiccup held out the bundle of wood.

“Oh, I, ah... didn't expect this to arrive... so soon,” Snotlout stammered through his greeting as he took hold of the package. “Hello, Hiccup.”

“Snotlout.. ah, hi,” Hiccup rejoined as he continued to glance around. “You've really fixed the place up since... uh, I was here... last time.”

The gaunt looking man, at least gaunt in comparison to the rest of his family, nodded his head. Hiccup noted the inordinate amount of gray in Snotlout's once very dark hair. However, his eyes looked exceptionally clear. It gave Hiccup pause.

“Sort of got tired, you know, of getting snowed and rained on. Plus, Heeboo and Ra-ra like it better when we can't feel the wind inside of the house.”

“Heeboo and Ra-ra?”

“Um, yeah. So... ah,” Snotlout stuttered a bit. “Why don't you come in.”

With that the man reversed course and went back into his house through the open door. Hiccup followed. In his most recent recollection of the interior, it resembled a garbage pit and smelled terrible. Hiccup girded himself and prepared for the vile stink of rotting food, rotting furniture, and gods-knew-what-else might be rotting to assail his nose. Instead, he stepped into a neat and tidy home. Moreover, the place did not reek of neglect. Hiccup felt his head swinging to and fro to absorb the details. It looked nothing like he could remember.

“Snotlout?” He said the name in bewilderment.

“Yeah, so... I decided a couple of years ago to lay off the mead,” his old acquaintance told him. “Kind of got sick of waking up in my own, well, sick. Took a while, but I finally managed to get it all scraped off the floor.”

Although the furnishing did not look new by any standard, they did appear to receive care. Moreover, piles of trash no longer hid the flooring. All in all, it seemed a cozy home. Hiccup scanned the main room, consisting of a jointly combined kitchen area, dining room, and sitting space. Within the living room sitting on a low platform Hiccup saw the unmistakable shape of a dragon. Moreover, a dragon so rarely seen near Berk few even knew of the breed. However, Hiccup knew, and it dumbfounded him.

“That's...” he began and halted when the small dragon lifted its head and stared in his direction. “Snotlout... that's a night terror!”

“You remembered,” Snotlout said and then gazed at the little creature while a smile sparked on the man's lips. “Found her in the forest on the northwest side of the island. Something ripped off one of Heeboo's wings, so I brought her here. She almost died.”

“You looked after her?”

“Of course I did, Hiccup! I might've been drunk, but I wasn't heartless.”

The indignation in Snotlout's voice and the rebuke he threw at Hiccup seemed justified. Hiccup stared at the man in wonder. Snotlout wore a dark gray jerkin over a thin off-white shirt, black leather pants, and sturdy boots, and in many respects looked normal. However, he did not wear a helmet, and Hiccup refrained from asking why. Beyond that, the smile he beamed at the handicapped dragon stunned the rider of the night fury. He gaped at Snotlout.

“I know. I never forget about him, but... this girl needed help, and I was the only one around,” Snotlout explained.

“You were always good a taking care of dragons,” Hiccup replied.

His old friend frowned a bit and nodded his head once.

“Ah, where'd you get the name Heeboo?” The senior dragon rider inquired.

“Oh, that, see... kind of embarrassing, but when I first found her, I didn't know it was a her,” he stated and grinned while staring into the middle distance of nowhere. “Sometimes I'd say ‘He got a boo-boo,' like you used to do to Toothless. It just sort of turned in Heeboo from there, and... then I figured out he was a she, but she was already responding to the name Heeboo.”

“There are worse ways and worse names to give a dragon,” Hiccup stated. “I'm proud of you, Snotlout. I know it probably wasn't easy for you, but... you did the right thing.”

“I know. Thanks,” the man quietly intoned. He smiled again as he looked at the dragon. “She... it's not like I can or would want to ride her, but having a dragon around again... I forgot how much I enjoyed it.”

“Is she friendly?”

“She hasn't been near a lot of people. You can give a try if you want, Hiccup. You always had a way with dragons.”

Hiccup slowly walked toward the dragon. It became immediately obvious she lost one wing. Puckered dark hide covered the knob where the coracoid and scapula protrusion still existed. As he approached, Heeboo watched him with intense interest that bordered on worry. When he got within three feet of her, Hiccup crouched and slowly extended an arm outward, hand raised and palm out. He held it in place, closed his eyes, and started to count. Dragons normally responded within five to ten seconds to a trust display. He got to thirty before he felt Heeboo sniff his hand. It took another fifteen seconds before she touched her nose to his palm. Hiccup slowly opened his eyes. Heeboo's eyes never left him.

“Such a brave girl,” he told her in a quiet voice. “You haven't had it easy, but at least you had Snotlout to look after you. He did well.”

Heeboo butted his hand with her nose, and he caressed it with easy, soft strokes. The familiar terror burble of contentedness greeted the motion. Snotlout chuckled behind them.

“Still got it, eh, Hiccup?” The man inquired.

“As do you, Snotlout. She looks like she's in excellent health, clean hide, and shiny eyes,” Hiccup stated as he continued to pat the dragon snout.

“Heeboo is easy to take care of. She likes to run around outside with Ra-ra, eat, and cuddle next to me while I whittle.”

“You whittle?”

“Yeah, didn't Mouldy tell you why I wanted to the wood?”

“No, he just said you needed some fist-sized pieces, so I asked Jack... and he's the one who selected those,” Hiccup said while pointing to the bundle Snotlout never set down.

“Good pieces. He really does have an eye for wood,” Snotlout said while examining the assortment. “Mouldy says you two broke up. Why?”

“A few pretty personal reasons. Nothing I really want to go into.”

Snotlout nodded.

“So, um, what do you whittle?” Hiccup inquired.

“Come 'ere,” Snotlout said and walked into the area clearly used as a living room.

Hiccup left off petting Heeboo and traveled all of five feet to a tall cupboard with dinged up doors. His immediate thought said Jack could refurbish the cabinet in no time, but then he dismissed it with a shake of his head. He watched as Snotlout jiggled open one of the doors, and then the other swung away. Hiccups jaw went slack as he stared at five shelves filled with small, intricate carvings of various animals, but most seemed to be of a boar and a dragon. The dragon he instantly recognized as Heeboo. A notion as to why Snotlout selected boars as subject skittered across his brain.

“I take it Ra-ra is a boar?” He asked.

“He is boar. Good guess,” Snotlout replied in a surprised tone.

“Wasn't a guess. See?” Hiccup responded and pointed to the small statues. “I could tell Heeboo right away, and all those boars look the same, so I just assumed.”

Snotlout smirked.

“But the truth is those are really good carvings. I would say you're doing a lot more than whittling on wood.”

“They're nothing...”

“No, these are something, and they're very, very good, Snotlout,” Hiccup interjected. “Who'd've thought you had it in you?”

The man shrugged and said: “Once I quit drinking and my hands stopped shaking so much, I needed something to do while I looked after Heeboo. I started just making spoons, and it went from there. After a while I wondered if I could whittle something more intricate, so I made one of Ra-ra... then Heeboo, and I sort kept going back and forth.”

“So why a boar? I mean the dragon I understand, but a pet boar?”

“I got Ra-ra to eat the trash I left lying around,” Snotlout told him and his face blushed. “Can't say I'm proud of the reason why I got him... actually, he just started hanging around and I didn't see any reason to chase him away. Then Heeboo came along, and those two became friends...”

“A boar and a dragon... friends?” Hiccup interrupted with his question.

“Sure. Why not?”

Hiccup shrugged since he could not think of a counter argument other than dragons likes to eat boars, but perhaps not one as small as a night terror.

“I think Ra-ra knew Heeboo was injured and sick. Every time she goes out back, he checks to make sure nothing is hiding in the bushes or any other threat is around. Ra-ra's gotten pretty protective over her for the last two years,” Snotlout informed him.

“So you quit drinking two years ago?” Hiccup guessed based on what he just heard.

The man nodded and said: “Wasn't easy, but I know I couldn't do anything for Heeboo if I stayed drunk. Sometimes,” and he let out with a bitter chuckle, “sometimes all I can think ‘bout is finding some ale or crab apple brandy. Then I look at her and I don't know who would take care of her if anything happened to me. Whenever I feel like taking a sip, I either work on the house or start whittling. It's better if I keep my hands busy.”

“But you should be proud you got a grip on it,” Hiccup said and tried to frame the situation in a positive light.

Snotlout eyed for half a minute.

“What?”

“Hiccup, that's like congratulating a man when he quits beating his wife or children when he shouldn't've started in the first place. I never should've...”

“Stop right there, Snotlout,' Hiccup interjected. “Hookfang got killed defending children and the other dragons during the stupid, bloody civil war. You loved that dragon almost as much as yourself, and don't tell me you didn't!”

The man cast a dark gaze at the ground. Even Heeboo stopped moving. Everything in the small, worn house seemed to stand still. 

“Hookfang died a hero, and it robbed you of something really personally important. It wounded you worse than what happened to Tuffnut ‘cause it was inside you where no one could see it and see just how bad it was. I'm not saying mead and ale was the best solution for what you were going through, but I can't let you condemn yourself with at least laying part of blame on those who started the war.”

“Including yourself for leaving when you did?”

Hiccup heard so much more than a question it left him speechless for a few seconds. He rallied and squarely faced Snotlout. Then he replied: “Yes, including me. A lot was going on back then, and I made so many stupid decisions... and that was one of the worst. Not a day goes by when I don't think what I could've done different to stop that idiotic war from happening. Yeah, I'm as much to blame as anyone.”

He watched as tears streaked down his old friend's face and said in a gruff voice: “Thanks, Hiccup. I think I needed to hear that.”

“Maybe I needed to say it a long time ago, Snotlout,” Hiccup calmly rejoined. “I missed you so much over the years, but I didn't know what I could do to help that wouldn't make things worse for you.”

“Couldn't. I had to find my own way out. It took that girl over there to force me to look past myself, past everything that hurt, and get my head in order. She took me outside of myself, Hiccup, ‘cause she didn't need a drunken fool to make things worse for her. I had to take a hard, hard look at myself.”

“We all did after those days.”

Snotlout let out a long sigh.

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” Hiccup rejoined.

Silence lingered and a different feeling started to build in the room.

“I saw them chop off Sledgehead's head,” the former dragon rider said in an oddly blank tone. “I can still picture it... even right now. The worst part was I thought he deserved it...”

“Nobody deserved that!”

“Didn't he? What did you ever do to anyone ‘cept try to help? You never hurt no one...”

“Ask Astrid that...”

“What a heap of dragon dung, Hiccup!” Snotlout took his turn interrupting. “She made it all about her: her plans, her life, what people would think of her... and she never thought once what it would do to you... meant to you. Then she went and got Sledgehead all worked up over it. I never got the chance to apologize to you for not sticking up for you before you left. I'm sorry, Hiccup, but maybe if more of us...”

“And that's what I mean about it being all our fault,” Hiccup stepped into what the man said. “There's a lot we did and didn't do. Some of it good; some of it very, very bad. People and dragons died for no good reason. It never should've come to that.”

“No, maybe not, but it did. It's what we do. If we can't figure it out we hack it to pieces.”

“Hazard of being a Viking, but things are changing. Slow, but it's happening.”

The two men looked at one another as adults and discussed real adult issues. Hiccup meant all he said to Snotlout. He also believed everything Snotlout said to him. Mostly he felt relieved the man got his life back on track. While he looked relatively the same, Snotlout appeared far different from the last time Hiccup recalled really taking a look at him. It did not seem so ironic to him that an injured dragon forced Snotlout to deal with the emotional and psychological damage he suffered a decade ago.

“So, ah, want to go meet Ra-ra?” Snotlout inquired when the quiet started become awkward.

“Sure. I really have to see this,” Hiccup gamely responded.

As they moved through the house, Snotlout called out to Heeboo and playfully asked if she wanted to go run with Ra-ra. The dragon bounced off her small platform and all but hopped toward them. Snotlout opened the door on the rear wall. He let out with a strange, guttural call, and it got answered by the grunt and snort of boar. Moments later a full-sized adult male boar came trotting out from behind a wooden lean-to. Heeboo shot past the two men and went bounding into the yard. Just as Snotlout told him, the boar ran around the perimeter of the yard rooting in bushes, around trees and stumps, and even yard furniture. Ra-ra then gamboled toward the dragon that performed the hunchbacked run common to terrors. Before they bumped into one another, they paused. Then Ra-ra took off at a fast trot with Heeboo loping after him. Snotlout quietly laughed to himself.

“Just like you said,” Hiccup said in awe. “Who would've thought? Better not let the twins find out about this. Remember the boar pit they had at The Edge?”

“I, ah... you're the first person from those days I've seen in a long time, Hiccup,” his friend told him.

That stung the rider of the night fury, and he said: “Snotlout, I'm... seriously, I'm sorry I didn't do more to reach out to you. I... wasn't as good a friend as I should've been.”

“Don't worry about it. Not sure you could've helped me anyway... might've made it worse, really. Would've made me think of him even more,” Snotlout said and needed to speak up to be heard over the tiny roars of Heeboo and the grunts of Ra-ra. “But you're standing here now, and I appreciate that.”

“It won't be the last time, if you don't mind.”

“Yeah, that'd be okay. I think I'm ready to be around people again,” the man with salt-and-pepper hair said with a nod of his head. “Maybe not too many right away, but... I'd be good to see you guys again.”

“Have you heard about Thorston Manor yet?” Hiccup asked as wry smirk spread across his mouth.

“A little. Why... and why are you grinning like that?”

Hiccup spent a while telling Snotlout what he considered safe to explain and answered questions. The two managed to ease into a comradery that seemed both familiar and new. Hiccup noted a lot of the braggadocio the man displayed in his younger days fell to the wayside. Snotlout acted and sounded more tempered. As they talked, Snotlout introduced him to the rather sizable boar, and the creature moved warily about him. Hiccup knew neither he nor Snotlout, nor the two of them combined, could hold off Ra-ra if it decided to attack. The curved tusks rising up from the brown snout looked ominous as it continued to size up Hiccup. Fortunately, Heeboo saved the day when she approached Hiccup and acted calm as well as sweet to him. Ra-ra slowly relaxed, but Hiccup knew the beast kept remained guarded. The time spent in Snotlout's backyard made for an interesting afternoon.

Snotlout did not remain alone in receiving a visitor. That evening as Jack washed his plate and utensils from the evening meal, he heard IceSpike let out with a sound not heard in over an eight-day. Jack went to the small sitting room next to the dining area, lit a lamp, and took a seat. He then glanced around.

“Come on: show yourself, Isemaler,” the former Isemaler requested.

The wild-haired youth, and he did, indeed, look like youth compared to Jack who actually physically aged ten years since Grimtooth Skovaks assumed the mantel. Isemaler came into view near the stairs. Jack watched him as he fiddled with the ice staff and appeared nervous.

“He's not here,” Jack told him.

“I kind of knew that when I could move through the roof,” Isemaler remarked. “Where is he?”

“He... Hiccup and I parted ways.”

Isemaler looked stunned. His eyes opened wide, and he appeared to go a bit slack jawed. The expression gave away several important pieces of information.

“Jack, I'm sorry! If I...” the spirit started to say.

“First, yes, you were part of the reason, but not the cause. There's a difference, so remember that,” Jack told him.

Isemaler nodded and drifted further into the room. He looked frightened, if Jack knew how to judge his moods after ten years. It piqued his curiosity.

“There were a lot of reasons, and most of them were about just Hiccup and me. It'll take me a while to figure it all out.”

“Any chance you two will fix things with each other?” Isemaler asked the reasonable if obvious question.

“I don't know. Right now... it doesn't look good, but I really don't know. We're not doing a good job of talking to each other,” he confessed.

Isemaler started to wring his hands around the barrel of staff. Flakes of snow started to fall around his head. More than Jack, Isemaler's power appeared directly connected to his emotional state. When he got nervous or panicked, unpredictable results happened. The last thing Jack wanted to explain to anyone would be why the living room, if not the entire house, got filled with snow during a summer month.

“But that's not your concern. That's for me and Hiccup to sort out,” Jack said in a calm, steady voice. “Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“I talked to Lord of Winter... and he called me a worrisome fool,” Isemaler began without any preamble.

“Why?” The mortal-looking Guardian inquired, but he quickly formed a list of the top five likely reasons that would sponsor Thursar H'rim to make the comment.

“I, um, asked him about the nightmares I'm having.”

Jack raised his eyebrows since that particular item did not make the list.

“This thing is real, Jack... and it hates,” Isemaler said, and his voice quavered. More snow fell around his head and the sitting room became noticeably cooler.

“Just stay calm, Isemaler, and explain why you think that,” he instructed his charge.

“It says it will come and take the Sickle of Elada... and then it will destroy the favored of Elada... but I don't know what that means. The voice sounds really angry!”

Isemaler's seemed to edge toward panic. Jack shifted in his seat. He saw the ice crystals start to form along the length of the wooden shaft in the hands of the Spirit of Winter Joy. He, himself, began to wrestle with maintaining his composure as he took in the information. Unlike the Spirit of Winter Joy, most parts of the statement made sense to the Spirit of Fun.

“And there's something else,” Isemaler said after a small pause. “It sounds... I know you're gonna think this is stupid, but it sounds... closer.”

“What do you mean closer?” Jack asked.

“Closer... as in less far away!”

Jack raised his eyebrows.

“It's like a loud whisper now, but when it started it was only a soft whisper,” the spirit further explained.

Jack shifted in his seat.

“You can't hear it, can you?”

“No, I can't. The only time I heard it was right after I got back from Earth, and you know that.”

“And you go back soon, right?” Isemaler questioned.

“In about a week and a half... and you'll want to know if I hear it again?”

The head of the immortal bobbed in the affirmative, and he asked: “Jack, am I going crazy?”

Jack smiled and answered: “Oh, you were there a long, long time ago, Isemaler.”

“I'm serious, Jack,” Isemaler snapped at him and a wave of cold followed. “I have to go sit in waterfalls... big waterfalls so I can't hear the voice. I can't close my eyes ‘cause I all see are all those stars, and it feels... so cold.”

“Cold?” The Earthling said the word and layered in many meanings.

“I know what you said ‘bout how we eat up the energy around us and it makes everything cold...”

“The endothermic reaction,” Jack supplied the correct phrase.

“That, but when I close my eyes,” and the spirit did, then the snow stopped falling around his head. “It's like there's only a little, little bit of energy, and it's cold like in lifeless cold.”

A mood accompanied Isemaler's words, and it set Jack's nerves to tingling. Once more he kept his reaction internal so he did not add more stress to the moment. It stunned him to hear Isemaler describing the environment of space into which, as far as he knew, the Hallan spirit never ventured. Jack, himself, only touched the barest edge of space while on Earth, and it matched what Isemaler described.

“Isemaler, look at me,” Jack said.

The young-looking man's eyes snapped open, and Jack saw disquiet in them.

“I don't know exactly what you're experiencing or why,” he said in a sure tone, “but I know people who might. When I get back to Earth, I will ask the other Guardians... especially Sandy. He's been around a long time, and he used to work in work in space. If anyone can make real sense of this, he can.

“Gods, thanks, Jack,” Isemaler heaved with considerable relief. “I just can't figure out why this happening to me. Thursar didn't know, and I was too afraid to ask Blikse'fey...”

“What about the other... spirits?”

“Most of ‘em don't talk to me. Heh, they don't even talk to each other. The one's who do talk I can't really understand. Du buh Lach Nahr sounds like she's – I think it's a she – is just blowing bubbles...”

“Who is that?” Jack inquired because, over time, Isemaler got to know the other spirits of Halla in more detail than he ever did.

“The ocean woman,” Isemaler told him. “Thursar said she remembers you the one time you got caught in the water when the spokelsedrake were hunting you, and then the one time you saw The Breathless...”

“Please, I don't need a reminder of that.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“So something like this never happened to any of them?” Jack returned to the main topic.

“No. I mean they used to fight each other a long, long, long... a time back to what they call the beginning, but they won't tell me about that. I don't think they even like to think about it,” Isemaler said in a puzzled manner.

“It sounds like when they first got created and they were trying to decide who got to control what,” the mortal of the two hypothesized.

“Sure.”

“Isemaler, I promise you, I will ask the other Guardians. I also have another friend who might also know, but Leiyís'axt...”

“That's that stone giant, right?” Isemaler interrupted.

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Jack said, impressed the spirit remembered because he only mentioned the Broken Nose on a few occasions in the past.

“Why would he know?”

“Not sure it's a he, and I can't be certain if anyone on Earth will know anything about this.”

Isemaler's face went slack.

“Listen, Isemaler, the Guardians have been around for quite a while, and they've seen and heard many, many things,” Jack told him. “It's the same with Leiyís'axt, and that one's lived for a lot longer than any of the Guardians. They might not know precisely what is going on with you, but... maybe they encountered something similar.”

The Hallan spirit nodded his head, but he looked both concerned and doubtful.

“You can always go ask Noro the Skydancer,” he suggested.

“No-o-o-o-o,” Isemaler drawled the word and stared at the ground. “She gets mad at me lot. She doesn't say it, but I can feel it sometimes at night when she's way up in the sky. I don't think I should bother her about this.”

Jack privately disagreed, but he wanted Isemaler to trust his own instincts and make his own decisions.

“Jack... this really scares me,” the spirit admitted, but he sounded more in control.

“I know it does.”

“I thought about everything you told me, taught me, and nothing like this ever happened to you.”

“Don't forget I fell onto another planet through a dimensional rip,” Jack said and hoped he sounded amused.

“Well, sure,” Isemaler said and grinned. “I guess that counts for something.”

“Really? Would you like to give it a try sometime?”

Isemaler shook his head back and forth, and replied: “Go to that insane place you come from? I never want to go there. Between what you've told me and what I heard Hiccup went through... no, thanks! I don't know how you can stand it there.”

“It's home,” Jack said in an almost sad tone.

He and Isemaler only talked briefly about the situation the Hallan Spirit of Winter Joy experienced, and Jack sent him away after a while claiming he needed to sleep. However, he did not got to bed as stated. He sat and thought about all Isemaler told him. Once more, a wave a guilt washed over him that he did not divulge to Isemaler all he knew. Jack decided to wait until he got to the Earth and talked to the other Guardians. He wanted to discuss his guesses with the Sandman, Bunny, and the Yeti since they all went through other-world events. While they might give him some insight, Jack pondered the words of the mysterious voice. It became more troubling as he considered the possible interpretations.

“It may be time for The Man in the Moon to talk to us,” he mused as he rose from his seat and snuffed out the lamp.


	4. Chapter 4

Over the course of the next week the situation in the workshop calmed and leveled out. Hiccup's meeting with Snotlout forced his attention elsewhere, and Jack's talk with Isemaler did the same. It did not mean Hiccup and Jack reached a new accord, but they became less hostile toward one another if not exactly friendly. Jack overheard Hiccup telling Fishlegs the news about Snotlout. Later, Fishlegs recounted for Jack numerous stories about the man, and Jack got the impression the stout Viking did not entirely like his old comrade. In the meanwhile, Jack told no one the details of what he and Isemaler discussed, although he did tell Fishlegs Isemaler did visit. A real surprise arrived at the end of that week.

“Jack?” An unfamiliar voice said his name while he bent over to fit two slats together for another commission.

Jack stood and almost fell backward when he saw who addressed him. Snotlout stood inside his workshop. No one else alerted him to the man's presence since the four smiths went to find some lunch. As a result, they met in private.

“Hello, Snotlout,” he replied and tried his best to keep the surprise from his voice. He slumped back down onto his stool.

“I, ah, waited ‘til everyone was gone before I came in,” Snotlout explained part of his presence. Then he held up his hand and revealed a fairly exquisite carving a terror-type dragon. “I wanted to give this to you to say thanks for sending the wood over.”

“Wow, that is very kind of you and... wait, did a wing break off?” Jack started to say until he noticed a particular detail.

“She's only got one wing. It's, um, an injured night terror I found a few years ago and helped her recover.”

“Oh, that's right. I heard Hiccup tell Fishlegs about... Beau... Boo-boo...”

“Heeboo,” Snotlout corrected, grinned, and waggled the figurine. “And I wanted you to see I wasn't just wasting the wood.”

Jack accepted the offering, and instantly began to turn it over in his hands while scrutinizing the handiwork. He noted the correct proportions and care with which Snotlout executed the details. It proved a much finer carving than any he tried to extract from wood, and it seriously rivaled some of the ice sculptures he made when wearing a different skin. The piece also immediately brought Nicholas Saint North to mind.

“This is exceptional, Snotlout. Real artistry,” Jack complimented the man.

“It keeps me busy when I'm not out hunting or working on the house. I don't do well when I don't have something to keep my hands occupied,” Snotlout freely told him. “And that's sort of why I came by.”

Jack lifted his head and gazed at the man. He knew Snotlout to be roughly the same age as Hiccup, yet he appeared older. Gray amply streaked his hair, and deep lines etched his face. It made sense given the history of Snotlout.

“If you need more wood, my scrap bin is over there,” Jack said and pointed to the corner where he tossed the spare pieces. “I figured you'd probably want more from what Hiccup and Fishlegs said, so help yourself.”

“Thanks, but that's not it. I, um, got some furniture that really needs to be fixed and I can't quite figure out how to do it myself. Hiccup said you really know what you're doing, and that you repaired a bunch of stuff for Ruffnut and Tuffnut...”

“Please, don't remind me of that day. I actually caught Tuffnut chewing on a chair leg!”

Snotlout let out with a short laugh and replied: “Not surprised to hear that, and I promise you no one's been chewing on my furniture... that I know of. I don't think anyone would want to. It's kind of old and probably seen better days.”

“I got some like that myself,” Jack admitted.

“There's really only two pieces I need someone to look at and tell me if it's even worth trying to save ‘em. I was thinking I could work out a payment with you by... actually, I'm not sure.”

“Let me see...”

Jack rubbed his chin while he thought. He looked at the statue, admiring it's overall quality, and considered what Snotlout could do in payment for any service he performed. Jack learned long ago that Vikings tended deal fairly unless they acquired something on a raid. Few accepted charity or handouts with any grace. Given that Snotlout presented him with the fine carving as payment for wood likely to end up in a fire, it fit right in with the general Viking mentality. He stared at the dragon figure, and then an idea hit him like some slapped the back of his head with a sturdy board.

“Ah, Snotlout... how about something other than an even trade?” he inquired.

“Like what?” The man narrowed his eyes and counter-questioned.

“This piece is better than most everything I've ever carved, and I really don't like to admit that.”

“It's not that great.”

Jack raised his eyebrows and replied: “I'm a pretty good judge of this sort of thing, trust me. This is... well, this is art, Snotlout, and there's no denying it.”

Snotlout scrunched up his face, and Jack assumed the man thought he spoke in jest. To dispel any such notion, Jack set the statuette down and got to his feet to face him. He never quite appreciated the fact Snotlout stood broader and taller than him. He looked up into the disbelieving face.

“First, you know what a thunderdrum looks like, right?”

The way Snotlout pursed his lips displayed his irritation at the question.

“That's what I thought,” Jack said with a hint of apology. “Look, the Borghildr's want me to decorate their mantelpiece with thunderdrums on both ends, but... I've been putting it off because carving takes me a long, long time to complete and destroys my schedule for weeks. If you'd be willing to finish the carving for me, I'd fix whatever furniture you've got in your place.”

“Are you serious? Because of that little thing?” Snotlout exclaimed and pointed to the statue of Heeboo.

“I am definitely serious. And if you like carving and want to do more, there's whole bunch of work I can send your way!”

“Wait. Are you saying you want me to work with you?”

“If that's how you want to look at it, sure: work with me. I'll teach you everything I know about woodworking, and maybe you can help me become better at carving and decorating wood pieces.”

Snotlout swung his head around as if looking for someone, and he responded: “You're honestly not pulling my leg or playing a joke on me? This sounds like something Fishlegs would cook up.”

“I realize we don't really know each other, but I don't pull those sorts of pranks. I like the ones where everyone has fun and no one feels singled out for abuse,” Jack sternly informed him.

“You aren't kidding,” the man said as he stared at the woodworker. “Listen, Jack, I only started carving stuff so I wouldn't drink ‘cause I'm bored. It's not like I ever did this with any serious thought. It's just... a hobby, I guess you could say.”

“Do you enjoy carving?”

“Yeah.”

“And wouldn't it be nice to get rewarded for doing something you already like doing? That's why I do this,” Jack stated and glanced around his workshop.

“Never thought about that way,” Snotlout quietly intoned. Then he brightened. “So... you really, truly think people would pay me to carve stuff for them?”

“I've got four orders I've been putting off for ages you can take right now. It'd spare me from hearing the complaints all the time. You'll get the full pay on the carving, and I'll take my share for the construction. You win, and I win... and it saves me from having to make more excuses.”

Jack watched as the former dragon rider pondered the offer. He gave hints he still thought Jack might be playing a joke on him, so Jack sat in silence and waited. Even if Snotlout could only carve half as good as shown by the figurine, it would be equal to whatever the avowed woodworker could produced.

“I... ah, didn't really come here for a job,” Snotlout hesitantly stated. “Did Hiccup put you up to this? ‘Cause...”

“Hiccup and I barely speak to one another right now,” Jack interjected. “Did you tell him you were coming into today?”

“No.”

“Then how can this be a set-up, Snotlout?”

The man blinked at him.

“Don't forgot: I'm not really doing this for you. If you agree, it solves a huge problem for me and lets me get my production back on schedule,” he explained again to the silent man.

Eyes narrowed.

“Does it seem really convenient you happened to come in with one of your carvings and presented it to a woodworker who happens to need get rid of some carving obligations? Yes, it does. Does it seem odd, even weird, someone you don't know suddenly up and offers you work? Yes, it does seem strange. Am I engaged in an elaborate prank? No, because do I look like one of the Thorstons? This is a legitimate offer, Snotlout. There're no conditions attached. If you want to carve and get paid for it, then I can funnel work to you. That's it. Plain and simple.”

“You just, ah, came up with that off the top of your head?” Snotlout inquired.

“No, I wrote it down some time last year and spent the last several months rehearsing it day-in and day-out on the remote possibility someone with any carving experience might just wander in and show me a sample of his work,” Jack blandly rejoined and crossed his arms, and that only served to underscore the sarcasm.

“Now you do sound like Fishlegs,” the guest said and smirked. “If you're serious...”

Jack huffed.

“Okay, so you're serious. I believe you, I believe you,” Snotlout said in a mildly defensive manner. “What's the trade with the Borghildr's on the carving?”

“Two dozen eggs – one dozen a week for two weeks I should say – and a half a bushel of winter stored yams,” Jack told him.

“Those are good fried.”

“I know! They get all sweet and crunchy in a hot pan from sitting a cold dark place all winter.”

The look of food lust crossed over the broad but lined face, and Jack knew exactly what prompted the expression.

“Ever take some yak butter and mix in some of the sugar cane tar they bring up from the southern islands and melt it over fried yams?” Snotlout asked and his speech slurred a little.

“Stop talking! You're killing me,” Jack said with a laugh. “So you'll take the work?”

“Yeah, I think I will. Do I need to carve it there, here... or I can I take it back to my place?”

“Well, I only dry fitted the mantel it to the fireplace ‘cause I couldn't think of how I'd carve it while it's still attached, so you could bring it here or to your house. Your choice.”

Snotlout glanced around the workshop. They could find space for him and the piece if he wanted. However, Jack saw him glance over at the smith side of the workshop, and a look of concern flickered on his face.

“Snotlout, if you're uncomfortable being around people after being on your own for so long, work at home to start. Maybe after a while you can finish a few smaller pieces here if you feel like it,” Jack suggested.

“Thanks,” the man said in a tight voice, and then coughed a little. “Ah, what about tools? I don't think the knife I use at home is going to be enough.”

Jack sat and spun around on his seat, ran his hands across his ordered display of tools until he came to a piece of rolled leather, and deftly extracted it from the cubbyhole. He then laid it out on his bench, and unrolled it. A set of nine wooden-handled steel tools lay inside.

“Hiccup and the guys made these for me four or five years ago when some people asked me to do scene cuttings. Don't ask me what each one is called or how to correctly use it because carving is not my strong suit,” Jack explained to the man. “If you experiment on a piece of scrap, I'm sure you can figure out what each tool does.”

“I can't afford these,” Snotlout stated while staring at the assemblage.

It renewed the notion Vikings did not like charity.

“Well, how about we say you give me a percentage of what you take in trade for maybe three or four jobs and we'll call it done?” The Guardian hiding in Hallan skin offered.

“What'd you pay Hiccup, Fartbritches, and Mouldy?”

“I fixed two doors for Fartbritches, Mouldy got a new footstool, and I gave Hiccup a really fun night in bed.”

The Viking's face slowly turned red.

“That's what I did,” Jack mumbled, “and he thought it was fair payment.”

“I don't know if I needed to know that,” Snotlout rumbled. With his cheeks retaining their apple color, he changed topics. “So, should I just go over to the Borghildr place and let ‘em know I'll be doing the work?”

Once again a certain hesitance edged his words.

“I need to run home and get some lunch, and their house isn't too far from mine,” Jack began. “We could stop over there and both explain the new arrangement.”

“That might be better. Might seem kind of – I don't know – weird for them if I just show up and say ‘Hi, I'm here to go after your mantel with a knife,'” Snotlout told him in a knowing fashion.

“Good point. Alright, then, let's head out.”

Jack rolled up the tools, handed them to Snotlout, extinguished the one lamp he used to shed light on his work area, and then got up from the bench. He and Snotlout exited the workshop. Snotlout began to ask him about the other jobs, and Jack asked the man where he found the dragon. A few people watched them pass, but most went about their own business. Clouds built overhead and the threat of rain took shape. It did not matter, Jack felt pleased with all the solutions that fortuitously appeared in his workshop. His life would become a little easier.

The next morning Jack found Hiccup sitting at the woodworking bench just as the sun peaked over the horizon in the west. It made Jack suspicious, but he kept a neutral expression planted on his face. Hiccup watched him walk over. Hiccup, for his part, wondered at the strange look on Jack's face. He arrived early so he could talk privately with the Guardian about a single issue. At times his journeymen smiths would idly gossip with customers and people who stopped in to exchange odd bits of news. Hiccup wanted to avoid that from happening.

“That was a decent thing you did yesterday for Snotlout,” Hiccup said and wasted no time getting to the point. Dressed in his heavy canvas pants and thick, sleeveless shirt meant he would spend a day hammering hot metal into useful items.

“I didn't do him any favors, Hiccup. The man's got some real carving skills, and... he's better than me at it. It's a business arrangement. That's all,” Jack replied. He likewise dressed for a day cutting and gluing wood together into new, functional shapes.

“No, Jack, not on Berk it isn't. None of us knew he quit drinking ‘til I went over there, and I sure as hell wasn't ready to see a dragon sitting in his house. Snotlout changed, and you know how we Vikings deal with change.”

Jack got the impression the term Viking did not entirely include him and replied: “It can get messy.”

“To say the least. The fact you acted as an intermediary with the Borghildrs legitimated what he was doing, and that's really the most important part of it all: you put your reputation on the line for him.”

After walking around the Viking sitting at his bench, he went and lit the lamp above it. The yellow light spread, mixing with the new dawn, and he could more clearly see Hiccup's face. The man appeared a little tense. Hiccup noted the fact the conversation made Jack uncomfortable, and he could not understand why. Modesty did not always play a huge role in the Guardian's life. He regularly liked to take credit where he thought it due.

“I don't care what the rest of the village thinks. This is a mutually beneficial arrangement, and you know it. He can use the work and I need to get those orders finished. The customers will be happy, Snotlout will be happy, and I'll be happy. That's it,” Jack expanded on his original statement.

“Really?” Hiccup queried in the manner he saved when he knew something another person did not. “So what are you going to do when Spitlout finds out? And you know he will. It's only a matter of time... and I'd say hours if he doesn't already know.”

“He finds out his son quit drinking and managed to find work. End of story.”

“Not end of story. Spitlout already knew Snotlout quit drinking. He never gave up on his son and would visit him at least once a week ever since the civil war. It's probably why Snotlout didn't die of starvation or in a house fire.”

“And your point?” Jack pushed the central issue with the question.

“The point is I know the Jorgensons a whole lot better than you, and you don't have any idea what barrel of fish you opened,” and Hiccup could not stop the small, somewhat nasty, grin that spread on his lips. “I am willing to bet your favorite chair against my flame sword that by the end of the day Spitlout will claim you're the lost Jorgenson son he never knew about and his wife never had. He'll make you a brother to Snotlout whether you want it or not. They will try – and by try I mean force – you to become part of their clan, Jack. You think I get pushy about things, wait ‘til you see what the Jorgensons can do. You'll wish you could turn invisible!”

Jack thought for a moment, dug into his inner Spirit of Fun, smiled, and then said: “It'll be fun. I get to have the Hallan family I never had and never knew I needed. They get an addition to their ranks. Wait ‘til they meet Isemaler and find out he's real. Then just imagine what it will be like the first time they see me when I transition to Earth, and it's coming up in a couple of days! That will be the talk of the town, and I can pretty much guess who they're going to turn to explain it all.”

Hiccup felt his grin fade as Jack spoke. The barest notion the Jorgensons would discover the truth about Jack set off a klaxon in Hiccup's head even a full-throated dragon bugle could not drown out. A nightmare of epic proportions began to develop in his brain, and Jack stood there grinning at him like an dunderheaded fool. It caused him to rethink his position of allowing the Jorgensons have their way with the man.

“Um, hadn't quite thought about that,” Hiccup finally admitted, and picked up a piece of wood curl to twirl between his fingers.

“I didn't think so,” Jack said with a hefty dollop of smugness. “Speaking of which, can you do me a favor. Actually, both of us.”

“What's that?”

“Can you watch over me during the full moon? IceSpike can keep people away, but she can't explain why I'm not answering the door... in case anyone – oh, let's say the Jorgensons – decide to stop by,” he requested and gave a fairly convincing reason.

“What about Fishlegs?” Hiccup tried to dodge.

“If it's not raining, he's taking Groanhilde out on Meatlug for a moonlight flight. Apparently this is something they like to do during the summer, and it puts them in the mood for love,” Jack replied and crooned the last word into one long, salacious syllable.

“Oh, gods, get that image out of my head!”

“If you agree, I'll scare you with something else that will make what Fishlegs and Groanhilde get up to after a long flight and a couple of flagons of ale seem like nothing.”

“What could be possibly be worse than that?”

“How about the fact Isemaler's been following you around.”

Hiccup instantly agreed that to be worse than visualizing the Ingermans in the throes of passion. His countenance turned to a glare and he focused it on Jack. It seemed the cause of so much of his recent strife did not vanish as he hoped.

“Don't worry, Hiccup: he won't show himself to you,” Jack stated with less than full certainty. “He's knows you're angry with him, and he thinks if he follows you around long enough he'll find out what he can do to get back on your good side.”

“That explains why the dragons keep looking at me all the time,” Hiccup growled the words. “Tell him to stop.”

“When are you going to realize I have little to no control over what Isemaler does? I can make suggestions... at best... and ones he feels completely free to disregard!”

Hiccup frowned.

“And get off of my stool,” Jack demanded as he felt the ire build between them.

Hiccup stood and move to the side. Jack sat down and pulled out his planning schedule. He flipped it open to the current day, and sighed when he saw the extensive list.

“Is he at least staying out of my room?” Hiccup roughly asked.

“He can't go in where you live unless you invite him. That's the deal you made with Noro, so it doesn't include anywhere else,” the Guardian in human flesh told him and assumed the next question the Viking would ask.

It appeared he asked to narrow an accommodation from the powerful entity. Hiccup frowned again. He initially hoped he could pay Jack a compliment for helping Snotlout as well engaging in a bit of fun. Jack, ever the clever one, turned it around on him, and then it took on a sour note. Hiccup hated constantly being in contention with Jack. Even if they could not be together as a couple, he wanted them at the least to be friends. Jack, however, did not seem ready to take that step. It also appeared Jack did not think about what got said on the final night in the house. However, the thought someone could stumble across Jack while he spent eight or nine hours in a ghostly state presented even greater problems.

“Sure, I'll sit guard over you in... what, two nights?” Hiccup agreed and tried to sound gracious

“Yes, see this moon symbol I wrote here?” Jack replied and turned to the page in his schedule book to the day when he would cross over to Earth. “Been doing this since the time you accidentally went with me.”

Neither of them mentioned the cause of the incident.

“Jack, that last night in the house, have you thought...”

“Oh, non-stop,” Jack interjected. “And I keep coming back to the one question I never got to ask you.”

Hiccup kept his mouth shut and nodded to the sitting man.

“Can you, right now, go and send Toothless away for good, wait for a couple of weeks, and tell me you're not a dragon rider?”

The Viking said nothing.

“Ever since you went to go see Snotlout, I started thinking again about what you said, and I don't think you ever put yourself in my position,” Jack continued. “Snotlout hasn't had Hookfang for over ten years. and he still thinks about his dragon every day... he still thinks of himself as a dragon rider. Being a dragon rider became part of who he is, and the death of the Hookfang didn't stop him from feeling that way. Look at what it did to him when Hookfang died. Now take into account I've been a Guardian for over forty years and been Jack Frost for over three hundred? How in himmel do you think I can just turn that off?”

“But I thought you wanted a mortal life?” Hiccup countered.

“When did you ever hear me say that back then?”

Once again the Viking said nothing as he riffled through of his memories of that fateful night when Jack died and he got transported to a meeting of the gods concerning the demise of Jack Frost. Try as he might, he could not recall Jack ever uttering the wish to be mortal. He stared at the man sitting before him.

“I agreed because I love you, Hiccup. I wanted to know that love, know it with you, and the only way I could was to agree to become mortal here on Halla,” Jack said in a distant voice. “If you ever wanted to know what I truly feel about you, think of this: I love being Jack Frost with every particle of my being. I love the cold and the snow and the ice and the joy it can bring to children. I love protecting the children and making them laugh because it gives meaning and purpose to my existence. I love to fly, Hiccup. Oh, gods, I love to fly. But I love you, too, Hiccup Haddock, and I was willing to give all that up to have that love with you. It never meant I would stop feeling and remembering who and what I am.”

“Jack...” Hiccup whispered the name.

“Would you be willing to give up Toothless for me... and would it be fair of me to ask you to stop thinking of yourself as a dragon rider?”

The question slammed into Hiccup as though he got in the path of a runaway gronkle. The simple idea of Toothless missing from his life sent a shock wave of horror from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. Hiccup actually physically shuddered at the thought. He stared at Jack as if seeing him anew. He recalled once when the Guardian spoke of his ability to fly how snow materialized around him as his powers responded to the strong emotional reaction. His mother called it a wondrous sight and it proved to her what lay within Jack's heart. The memory coupled with the notion of losing Toothless and the effect it would cause made Hiccup admit something he never considered.

“I... don't think I could,” he said and looked down.

“And yet you expect me to forgot everything I am?” Jack whispered. “Would you even ever love me if I never was the Jack Frost you first met and got to know?”

“I don't know,” Hiccup barely breathed out the words.

“You think it unfair they asked me to guide Isemaler in learning how to live with his duties... his powers and responsibilities, but they never asked me to forgot who I am. Only one other person ever asked me to do that, and he nearly destroyed the Guardians so he could blanket the world in darkness and nightmares.”

Hearing Jack compare him to the Nightmare King, Pitch Black, a being Jack only spoke about with utter contempt, stung Hiccup to the core. He wanted to say something, anything, to Jack, but words failed him as the totality of what Jack said began to wash over him. Part of Hiccup still felt aggrieved over the conditions placed on his relationship with Jack, but he started to see the enormity of the limitations Jack accepted without complaint at the same time. It all seemed unworkable to Hiccup because he could find a no way to make the two desires compatible and equal.

“I'm sorry,” the Viking whispered.

He quickly turned on a heel and walked away. Hiccup feared anything more Jack might add could crush him. His mind became consumed with trying to suss out where he, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III ended and the dragon rider, the companion of Toothless, began. It became an impossible task. His entire self-concept took on the shape of a dragon in his mind, and one in particular. The barest hint of loosing Toothless almost robbed him of thought. Hiccup hardly realized the hours slipped by as he mindlessly worked, often making repeated mistakes, while he struggled with choices and concepts Jack planted in his head. Fartbritches and Mouldy, accustomed to the mercurial moods of Hiccup at times, gave the man a wide berth.

The conversation with Jack continued to plague him for the next two days. He came to envy the manner in which Jack hid his emotions and interacted with others as though nothing went amiss. Yet he could see in the brown eyes troubling thoughts. Others did not, or perhaps they simply ignore what stood right before them. Then again, only two other people and one spirit knew what lay inside Jack. Hiccup pondered again and again what life must be like for Earthling living on Halla denied his essential being. He kept hearing Jack say over and over how he never forgot his role as Guardian. It kept Hiccup awake at night. It made him simultaneously restless and tired. Even time spent with Toothless did not ease his discontent.

Very early on the morning when he promised to watch over Jack, Hiccup left the dragons caves before the beasts or the sun rose. He walked to the hill overlooking Berk where Jack said he saw Aita, Death, sitting and collecting the essence of those who got killed during the civil war. For years Hiccup avoided going to that particular location because of the memories it stirred. That day, because of the memories, he went to the hill. He stood in inky darkness of the pre-dawn day and glanced at the dim outline of a peacefully sleeping Berk.

“Isemaler?” Hiccup clearly said the name.

He got no response.

“I know you're nearby. I saw the watch dragon look at you.”

Ten feet away a glimmering outline of the Spirit of Winter Joy came into being. Isemaler then took on a translucent version of himself when not around Jack. The Viking faced the immortal.

“Isemaler, do you ever think... ever want to go back to your life as Grimtooth?” He asked as bluntly as the spirit ever asked a question.

“No,” Isemaler answered without waiting. “This is who I am now, Hiccup. This is who I want to be.”

“Do you miss being mortal?”

“No.”

“What about your family and friends who survived the Mangler attack? What about them?” Hiccup asked and dove headlong into the painful past of Isemaler.

“In this form I can care for them like I never could before... and I get to keep watch over the whole world, Hiccup. Isn't that as important as them... more important?” Isemaler countered.

“But what about you? Where is Grimtooth in all of this? Did you forgot who you were?”

Isemaler floated closer to him, and Hiccup saw the look of confusion on the barely opaque face. The eyes the color of a clear winter sky bore into his. As he drew nearer, the temperature around Hiccup dropped. It served as a subtle reminder of the immense power contained within the spirit.

“Forget? How could I forget? It's because I was... I am Grimtooth Skovaks that I got granted this. I will never lose that part of myself, Hiccup. Why do you ask me these questions?” Isemaler sternly questioned him.

“Because... ‘cause I'm not sure I ever understood who Jack is.”

The ghostly face studied him for a moment and queried: “How can you love a man you don't know?”

“I know him, Isemaler, but that's not the same as understanding him. Do you actually understand him? What he is? How he is?” Hiccup countered.

He got rewarded with an expression of deeper confusion on the spirit's visage. However, several expressions rippled across the face. Isemaler came within a foot of the Viking.

“I understand he is like me. Noro told me the night she raised me from the ocean that I earned this, Hiccup,” he said in a fierce voice. “I didn't die for myself: I saved my sisters... my brothers... the children of my people. I would do it again and again and again without any promise I would be granted this form and life. It's not me who was important that day. I will never be as important as them!”

“My gods,” Hiccup whispered as he watched the light gleam and glint around the spirit.

“I thought you knew this, Hiccup. Understood it. Isn't that why you fly your dragon and protect your people like you do?”

Hiccup nodded his head.

“Then that's all you need to know about me... and that's all I need to know about Jack.”

Isemaler vanished without a sound and left a stunned Viking standing alone in a world turning from dark to light. Long ago Jack told him a story about people who lived in a cave and never knew they caused the flickering shadows on the wall as the sunlight streamed through the doorway. They did not know better to turn and face the sun. Those who did, Jack told him, represented learning because they saw the light. Hiccup never fully appreciated the tale until that moment. He stood and watched the sun rise. In the light he felt guilt and shame over his assumptions concerning those closest too him. In that moment he realized another lesson from his father's life and death.

Despite being physically tired, Hiccup felt mentally alert. His mind continued to churn over all the nuances in what Isemaler told him. It began to fit together with what he knew about Jack's past on Earth, a planet he got to see for himself and understand the perils the Spirit of Fun faced. Yet he also heard Jack telling him about the great beauty and kindness to be found on Earth in spite of half the nature of the people. Hiccup always knew the same applied for Halla, and he got a shining example of that in Isemaler. He walked to the edge of town and heard the people rousing. Some, like him, rose before the sun so the fishing ships could set sail on the morning tide. Others began the daily chores of caring for their families. Still more set about the tasks they undertook, whether the liked it or not, to help provide for themselves and the village. Hiccup saw people. In their faces he saw reflections of two remarkable beings.

He stopped by a cart and got a bag of early apples for everyone in the shop. He munched on one as he walked along to the smithy and woodshop. Most people greeted or nodded to him as he passed. Hiccup returned the gestures. It impressed him how much Berk simply felt like Berk on a normal day. He loved his village and the people within it no matter that they tended to get on his nerves. Overhead he saw a dark shape in the sky, and recognized the wing configuration. Hiccup grinned at Toothless who circled downward to meet him at the forge. He grabbed a large fish before he started up the path to his shop. When he got there, he tossed the sea sturgeon to a suddenly very eager dragon. When he went in to the smithy, he noticed the way air hung still. He put the bag of apples down where Fartbritches and Mouldy could easily find them, but not before he grabbed two.

“Here, kind of like breakfast,” he said to Jack who sat as his desk.

“Ah, thanks,” Jack said and accepted it while his eyes narrowed.

“I'll be there tonight to watch over you,” he promised. “And you know what else?”

Jack shook his head.

“I saw the sun this morning... and I think I might know what makes the shadows.”

Jack gaped at him.


	5. Chapter 5

Jack sat up the next morning and panic raced through his entire system as he finished solidifying. He heard the loud whisper of a voice in his head, and it spurred him to greater haste. The dawn broke gray with the threat of rain. It did not matter. He pulled the sheet off his body. IceSpike sat up in her next and watched him. Jack noticed Toothless also sat up on his old scorched slab of wood. Hiccup did, indeed, keep watch through the night, the Earthling thought. However, other matters took precedent in his head. He struggled to find clothing to wear. IceSpike and Toothless warbled in concern at him.

“Jack... what?” Hiccup groggily said from his makeshift bed on the floor when Jack's feet thundered down the stairs.

“Isemaler! Here, now!” Jack yelled.

Hiccup sat up. Much to his surprise, Isemaler popped into existence three feet from Jack. The Hallan Spirit of Winter Joy appeared perplexed. Jack came to a halt in the middle of the parlor. He glanced form Viking to Viking, one material and the other not so much, as if at a loss for what to say. Hiccup regained full consciousness as he watched Jack in a state he last saw on an island far away during the Berkian Civil War.

“What?” Hiccup finally yelled at the brown-eyed, brown-haired mortal man who just minutes ago looked like the smoky figure of white-haired, pale-skinned teenager wearing clothes similar to Isemaler's.

“Isemaler, I should've told you, but I didn't know for certain,” Jack began and he breathed hard as he spoke. The words running through his mind, not of his own conjuring, lent urgency.

“Jack, calm down,” Hiccup said as he gained his feet. “You just got back, so maybe it's still...

“Oh, no, not this, Hiccup, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you, either!”

Hiccup looked first to Jack and then to Isemaler. Isemaler returned then gaze, and then shifted it to Jack. Jack's head snapped back and forth between the Vikings.

“It is real, Isemaler. It's not a dream... nightmare. It's out there and it's coming,” Jack said the spirit, and the spirit responded by letting his mouth fall open and turned even paler if possible.

“Jack?” Hiccup begged the question with the name.

Jack turned to him, squinted and said: “You slept in your clothes? You still have nightshirts here.”

“Focus, Jack! My clothes aren't important right now!”

“Right, right,” the Hallan-looking Guardian said and sounded a bit more controlled. “You know how he's been pestering us about these... nightmares he's having?”

Hiccup nodded his head, and his thatch of dark-red hair waved wildly about.

“They're visions... but not really visions. Something reached out to him, and it's not good,” Jack told them in a hollow voice.

“Oh, gods!” Isemaler whispered. “It really is coming after me!”

“It's coming after that first,” the original Isemaler said and pointed to the staff clutched in the hands of the second one. “That is the Sickle of Elada.”

“The Moon Father?” Hiccup half-squeaked in surprise while Isemaler seemed to jolt at the sound of the name. “Why would anything want the ice staff besides you two?”

“That is not just the ice staff, Hiccup. What Isemaler holds is called Twinetender... and it was not mine originally. A being called Nightlight once wielded it, and Father Moon merged me and Nightlight together when I died to save Nightlight's power and my life. Before that, a billion years before that, a creature called Etuchaand created the staff with The Man in the Moon to channel winter power... to help level out the weather on Earth... and do other things,” he said in a rush.

“Slow down. All I'm getting are strange names of things I don't know about,” Hiccup demanded.

“Me, too,” Isemaler added, but his voice sounded troubled.

Jack huffed, but held himself steady and said in a metered fashion: “A being named Etuchaand who helped created that staff, called Twinetender, is coming to get it. It will kill Isemaler, then me, and then it's going after The Man in the Moon!”

Hiccup and Isemaler stared in horror at Jack.

“H-H-How?” Hiccup stuttered the word. “I thought we were in someplace else in space not where your planet is?”

“Yes, we are in a parallel dimension, but so is Etuchaand. Father Moon sent him here a quarter of a billion years ago when they fought for control of Earth. They're like brothers... twins or something, that came into being at the same time and have similar powers.”

“Like you and me?” Isemaler inquired in a tremulous manner.

“No, not like you and me. I got created hundreds of years before you, and the source of your power comes through Noro. I get mine from The Man in the Moon. We're similar, but not twins. Kind of how our immortal clothes are not exactly alike.”

Isemaler nodded, but appeared troubled by the words.

“Wait a second, Jack,” Hiccup said and he stared at the floor, but actually in the middle distance to nowhere. “Way back when this idiot accidentally sent me to Earth with you...”

“Etuchaand did that... sort of...”

“Why didn't you tell me then this was all...”

“Because I didn't know,” Jack halted the Viking's tirade. “When I went to Earth last time...”

“Last night,” Hiccup clarified.

“Whenever, but I talked to Sandy about the nightmare's Isemaler is having. I already figured out the Sickle of Elada was the staff...”

“Speaks for itself, doesn't it?” The lone mortal Viking sarcastically rejoined, but he saw in the corner of his eye the Hallan Spirit of Fun slightly recoil.

“You're not helping,” the Guardian growled at him.

Hiccup sat down in one of the stuffed chairs in the room. He folded his arms across his chest and appeared angry. Jack snorted in irritation.

“Really, Hiccup? You think now is a good time to throw a fit?”

“I'm not throwing a fit, Jack! I'm trying to deal with the fact you're telling me some older-than-dirt, super powerful being that your maker banished to my parallel... space is coming this way to kill you and Isemaler to get that staff so it can go back to your space and kill your Moon Father. Tell me where I got this wrong and how it doesn't pose a danger for everyone? If you can explain that, then I'll stop being angry!”

Jack blinked in astonishment, more so because Hiccup correctly summed up the situation and performed the logical extrapolation. Etuchaand did present a serious threat to Halla, he knew. Hiccup's slight tantrum forced him to think with greater clarity.

“You, ah... everything you said is correct,” he confessed. “When Etuchaand finds this world is protected by Noro, it'll wage war against her and everything she made.”

“Dragon pockers!” Isemaler swore. “Why didn't you tell me any of this before now?”

“Because – if you care to listen – I didn't fully know!” Jack shouted. “I just found out a couple of days before I came back!”

Hiccup and Isemaler threw him an odd look.

“You were only gone one night,” Hiccup grumbled.

“Here, yes, but I was there a whole month. When in himmel are you finally going to get it right?”

Jack radiated a fury that did not originate due to either Hiccup or Isemaler. Terror drove his emotions. The voice in his head fueled it. He needed to convey a lot of information to the two Vikings, and they decided to nitpick on irrelevant details. That calmed him in a strange way. Jack looked past what they said and thought of the reasons why. He just told them they stood a good chance of getting killed my a maniacal and powerful being because a battle from one dimension spilled into another. He decided to go back to something they could both grasp.

“Sandy and Reginald don't think I came here by accident,” Jack said in as normal fashion as he could muster.

“I thought it was the trolls you were fighting that caused you to slip between worlds?” Hiccup asked a convoluted question. He tried to run a hand through his messy and somewhat knotted hair.

“Guess who made the ancestors of the blue trolls way back when? Father Moon and Etuchaand made all sorts of weird creatures... things together before they started fighting each other.”

Hiccup held still. He carefully replayed one of the unsettling events concerning Jack, and it featured three extremely mighty entities who decided Jack's fate. His phenomenal memory came into focus, and he recalled one seeming casual statement.

“Noro said she thought The Man in the Moon made a mistake creating so many... elemental beings on Earth, but she didn't say why,” Hiccup spoke aloud what he heard in his brain.

“Gods, you're good,” Jack said with open admiration, “and you're right, ‘cept he didn't want to go into the whole story because he didn't want you or me to hear it.”

“Why?”

“Because words have power, Hiccup.”

A little over ten years before Hiccup heard the exact phrase spoken by an assemblage of the most extraordinary people he ever met. Bunny, Sandy, and Toothania, along with Jack, started to tell him some of their personal background, but then halted. They told him words contained power, and certain words in combination could bring disaster. Back on Halla Jack explained a man called Wise Sir Terry discovered the secret to words and carefully shielded the knowledge from other mortals, but left clues for those who needed to know in order find solutions to problems. However, Sir Terry also cautioned against using words to shape and reshape reality too often as it would lead to unintended and potentially destructive consequences. Hiccup felt his mind expand in ways he did not expect and never wanted.

“That's why you didn't want to tell me about what really happened to The Man in the Moon,” he said to his own thoughts.

“Knowledge of a thing, it's name or the words used to describe it, can call it to you. It's attracted to the greater realm of reality when an idea takes shape in words,” Jack told him.

“Like how the belief of children gave you,” and Hiccup looked at Isemaler, “and gives him greater strength and... more reality.”

Jack nodded his head. Part of him hated forcing Hiccup to deal with concepts the likes of which he should be spared knowing. Yet a very real threat hurtled toward Halla. For ten years the Sickle of Elada pulsed like a beacon for Etuchaand. Reginald, using the careful language of the Yeti, who also knew the power of words, explained the louder the voice in Isemaler's mind became the closer Etuchaand drew. Jack paused in his thinking to listen to the repeated threats in his mind. Sooner or later the voice would begin to beat on Isemaler's brain in the same way Aita's voice could annihilate a mortal mind. Sooner or later the voice would kill Isemaler and leave the staff unguarded. Sooner or later Etuchaand would try to kill them all.

“Jack, don't go drifting off on us. Tell us what we need to know,” Hiccup commanded him.

“Father Moon's name is Elada, as you know,” Jack started.

Isemaler winced yet again.

“Sorry, but I have to tell him, and you need to know as well.”

“I'll be okay,” Isemaler wanly claimed.

“This is not going to be easy on you, Isemaler. I'm sorry.”

Hiccup watched the two and asked: “You mean the words are actually affecting him?”

“And me. I can't escape what I am, Hiccup, but I have to endure this so we can try to figure something out,” Jack told him.

Then Jack sat in the other chair. He stationed his left elbow on the armrest, and then propped his head against his hand as though it weighed too much to hold upright. The Guardian in disguise closed his eyes.

“Long ago... so long ago none of us can begin to picture it, Elada shared the moon with Aletha. They sat there and made plans for the Earth. They looked at the life that started to grow and decided which would live and which would die. The life they saw on Earth did not resemble life as they understood it, so they treated it as inferior and as a plaything.”

Thus Jack began to roll out the story of Elada and how he became The Man in the Moon. The two entities on Earth made sport of life, but over the eons in which they amused themselves Elada began to see something akin to life as he knew it. Each proved different and individual. Over time his mind changed regarding the creatures they called into being and then exterminated on a whim. Aletha, however, did not. The life on Earth meant nothing except as a form of entertainment. When the first great time of ice came to the world, the two knew they needed to act or everything they saw on Earth would perish. Aletha went to the planet and collected one of everything it could find. These raw materials it brought back to Elada, and together they shaped part of their energies into a staff with a crook at the end. Elada showed a finer sense of control over the powers, and he directed the staff to absorb the power of winter. Hence, Twinetender came to be.

Throughout the narrative, Hiccup noticed it seemed to produce a draining effect on both Jack and Isemaler. The Hallan spirit twitched as if repeatedly zapped by static electricity. Over the years he experienced a number of truly odd events, but the subtly of this one put it into a different category. What he heard also gave rise to other questions.

“So Etuchaand made the staff and The Man in the Moon gave it it's power?” Hiccup asked when Jack needed to take a break from reciting the story.

“They both made the staff and they both put some of their own energy into it,” Jack clarified. “But it was The Man in the Moon who fine tuned it and directed it to work with the forces of winter. It became more a tool of Elada than Aletha, but Aletha didn't know it at the time.”

“Elada is The Man in the Moon and Aletha is Etuchaand. Okay, I got that a while ago,” Isemaler mumbled while squinting his eyes as he said the names.

“What about the rest of the story?” Hiccup asked the spirit to see if Isemaler paid attention.

“They made it together. It's part of both of them... and that's why Etuchaand wants it: it can hurt The Man in the Moon,” the Hallan spirit stated.

“You're quick, and that's exactly the point,” Jack said and nodded to his elemental colleague. “But there's more to it than that. After their war, Elada trapped Aletha's physical body in the moon itself, and he stopped the moon from a standard axis rotation. Now Etuchaand can only see the sun and outer space. He never sees the planet and has no idea how much things have changed on my world. It takes most of Father Moon's power and strength to keep Etuchaand bound to the moon and to keep it tidally locked.”

Both Hallans glanced at Jack.

“Tidally locked it just the fancy name for a satellite likes moons that don't spin... rotate in a normal way. People on Earth only see one side of it. Does that help?” The Spirit of Fun explained and inquired.

“A little. This is a lot of information, Jack, and it's pretty damn frightening to be honest,” Hiccup rejoined from where he sat. “So what did The Man in the Moon send here if he's got Etuchaand's body trapped back there?”

“This is where it really gets weird...”

Hiccup snorted a derisive laugh.

“Okay, weirder,” Jack amended and continued. “And it involves quantum stuff.”

“Oh, for Odin's sake, no!”

Isemaler shook his head.

“Too bad for both of you ‘cause this is really important, and it took Sandy and Reginald quite a while to explain to me,” Jack said and sounded a touch vindictive. “When any of us die, our consciousness starts to break apart. This is what Aita collects because it contains an unusual form of energy information that needs to stay within universe of origin.”

“Thor, please kill me now,” Hiccup said under his breath.

“I heard that,” the Earthling rumbled.

The living Viking rolled his eyes.

“For beings like Isemaler and me, our consciousness gets bound to the planet through a very intricate process. It's why it took The Man in the Moon weeks to merge Nightlight and me and raise me up from the lake. The same process got used on Isemaler, and it's why our bodies aren't really solid: it's the energy from our minds contained in the shape of what we used to be.”

“But we're alive, right?” Isemaler asked.

“Yes...”

“If you say ‘and no,' I'm leaving,” Hiccup grunted out his threat. “I can accept it if you say you're a different form of life, but you can't be dead and alive at the same time!”

“We're alive, and you're guessed pretty close to the truth,” Jack replied. “But the tricky part is we are still part of the world where we originally lived.”

“But you weren't born here!” Isemaler immediately stated the conundrum.

“And that's why before all the spokelsedrake stuff happened you were going to... fade away and die. You were on the wrong planet... wrong kind of ... space,” Hiccup said and revealed a twinge of excitement at understanding the unique concepts.

Jack nodded. They did understand. Of course, he spent ten years lecturing ad nauseam on advanced topics in physics so they would glean insight as to how Isemaler's powers worked on a basic level. As much as Hiccup might protest at the strangeness of sub-atomic physics, he did pay attention.

“But your mortal here?” Isemaler picked up on the next issue.

“This is flesh Noro the Skydancer made for me so I can live my mortal life here. Father Moon implanted enough of my native energy in me so my consciousness can last until the body wears out, and then Aita will transport my consciousness back to my home dimension when I physically die here. The Breathless One will guide the information of what and who I am to where it needs to be,” Jack said and hoped it satisfied both men.

Hiccup shuddered at the names of The Breathless one.

“Now ask me about Etuchaand being in this dimension,” he prompted the two.

One set of mortal eyes and one set of immortal eyes simply stared at him, and both refused to take the bait.

“Fine. They don't quite know how, and it might just be a quirk of Aletha's power, but somehow it managed to hang onto a piece of moon when it got transported to this dimension. It's the only way it could've remained coherent... intact for all these millions and millions of years. It probably learned how to adapt to the quantum energy matrix...”

“And now you lost me,” Hiccup intoned. “But you're forgetting one thing, Jack. It's not a quirk because your Father Moon sent the saddle and tail fin the Yeti made for Toothless back with us. They're still just as functional.”

Jack blinked at Hiccup.

“Oh, didn't think of that, huh, smarty pants?”

“Shut up,” Jack murmured and his cheeks turned a faint pink color.

“Plus, you said earlier Sandy and the furry guy think Etuchaand made the... tunnel... opening that sent you here in the first place through those troll thingies. The only part I don't get is why Etuchaand waited to send you through and not any of the other Guardians.”

Jack blinked in stunned silence for a second time.

“Not so smart now, are you?” Hiccup quipped through a wicked little smile and endured the frown Jack threw at him.

“And why did this staff get stuck here if other items can get transported back and forth... including a person and a dragon? Don't forget you took that little tree back to Earth for the stone guy,” Isemaler asked, and his native intelligence seemed in command at the moment.

“That's not entirely right,” Hiccup slowly said when Jack failed to answer. “Don't forget some part of us remained behind like smokey shadows.”

“It's the guide thread and the information that belongs in this universe,” Jack piped up because that answer he knew. “If all of you, all of me, got sent through, then we could never get back to Halla because our contact with it would be completely broken. We technically exist in two places at the same time, except most of us is in one place.”

“And the tree?” Isemaler pressed the point since it seemed out of sorts with the other pieces of information.

“I don't think any part of it exists here. It's not a conscious thing that needs to come back to its native planet to remain alive.”

Jack glanced back and forth between the Vikings.

“So if Chaandface has a part of the moon with him, then he's still connected to your space. It's his... thread to get back home. Right?”

“That's a pretty sound logic, Hiccup. I need to write this down for when I go back to Earth.”

“And if Etuchaand helped make the staff, then it's connected to the staff and wouldn't let it go back to your world, Jack,” Isemaler added his own momentary flash of brilliance.

“If what both of you are saying is correct, then there's a good chance Etuchaand put more of its physical self into Twinetender than Father Moon knew when it got made. Once it arrived in this dimension, Aletha probably felt the staff right away,” Jack further expounded on the idea.

“How? From the sound of it, Chaandhead is still a long way away. How could he sense it?” Hiccup asked as his mind continued to thrash out what it all meant.

“Ah, you're not going to like this, but it's called quantum entanglement.”

“And now we're back to where I don't care when I should.”

Isemaler chuckled at the response. Jack rolled his eyes. Hiccup tried to hide a smirk.

“Do you know what's even weirder?” Jack asked the two men.

“Nothing is weirder than what you said about tangled quanty stuff,” the Viking droned.

“I haven't felt afraid since we started trying to figure this out.”

Hiccup and Isemaler glanced at one another.

“I don't feel as panicked as I did,” Hiccup confessed.

“It's easier to talk about than to just think about it,” Isemaler speculated.

“Speak for yourself,” the mortal Viking commented.

“Come on, Hiccup, just admit he's right,” Jack interceded. “There's an old phrase on my world: it's better to light a candle...”

“Than curse the darkness,” Hiccup finished for him.

“You say that all the time when you're talking to us about strange things,” Isemaler rejoined.

“And that's what knowledge is: light in the darkness. It keeps what we're afraid of at bay,” the hidden Guardian said so he could finish his intended thought. Even the voice in his head whispering the same phrases over and over did not seem as disconcerting.

“Facing the sun?” Hiccup half-whispered.

“Exactly.”

“But we still haven't figured out what to do when Etuchaand actually gets here. Sitting around and cooking up ideas is one thing, but if he's...

“How do you know it's a he?” Jack interrupted.

“Okay, she.”

“Could be a he,” Isemaler mused.

“Whatever it is, but what do we do when it finds you two?” Said Hiccup as though he ground rocks between his teeth.

Jack slowly started to shake his head and answered: “I don't have a single clue.”

Isemaler started to look worried again.

“But in a month's time I get to talk to some exceptionally bright people when I go to Earth,” he said and sounded oddly pleased. “I'll discuss with them what we talked about here, and I'm pretty confident we hit upon some aspects they didn't think of. There's going to be a lot of brainpower and experience working on this. We'll find a solution!”

Jack hoped his optimism proved infectious. Within a half an hour, however, it started to wane between the three of them. They admitted to only guessing about most of what they discussed regardless of how logical it sounded. Isemaler began to fret, and the mortals knew it would not take much before a renewed sense of panic set in. Hiccup suggested Isemaler needed to find a big waterfall under which to sit to help him clear his mind. Before Jack could reprimand Hiccup on the slightly cruel pun, Isemaler took it to heart. A moment later he disappeared.

“That wasn't nice,” Jack said to the Viking.

“How do you know it's not exactly what he needs right now?” Hiccup countered with exaggerated confidence.

The Earthling opened his mouth and suddenly found he could not disprove the Viking. He slowly shut his mouth, but he continued to cast a baleful eye on the other man. Hiccup sat up straight and stared at him.

“How worried are you about this?” He asked.

Jack glanced around to make certain Isemaler did not linger and then answered: “Very. This isn't a joke, Hiccup. Reginald and Sandy went into fits when I told them what I knew, and it wasn't a lot.”

“So you really did know Isemaler's staff is the Sickle of Elada?”

“Yeah, I figured out right away it was Twinetender, but I forgot it's original name ‘til I was on Earth. Hiccup, what Isemaler holds is an immensely powerful device that helps him channel his power. You've seen what he can do with it, so now imagine what someone who used it for a thousand million yeas can do with it.”

Hiccup's eyes went wide.

“At least you can appreciate the gravity of the situation,” Jack responded to the look in a solemn manner. “But I think we have time. Isemaler will be our timer. The louder the voice in his head gets, the closer Etuchaand gets. Sooner or later that voice is going render Isemaler useless... and it could kill him.”

The Viking looked horror stricken.

“Nothing is truly immortal, Hiccup. Not Isemaler, not me, not any of us. Aita might be the only one who is, but... I think even Death has limitations.”

“How can you be so calm about this? Chaandyak...

“Why do you keep making fun of that name?”

“Because it makes it less... scary to me. You deal with your fear in your way, and let me deal with mine how I want,” Hiccup grumbled.

“Perfectly valid point, and I'm sorry,” the Guardian quietly said. He then fixed his eyes on his left hand and said: “Can I tell you something that'll probably make you angry?”

“If that's what you want to do, why not?”

Jack glanced at Hiccup for a moment, measuring the response and said: “I know you think I care more about what happens to Isemaler than you. I won't deny that I do care about him, but not in the same way I cared about you. Hiccup, if I didn't care about him, I'd be putting all of you at risk. I couldn't do that.”

“I, ah, sort of knew that, so I'm not mad. I've been thinking about a lot of the stuff you've told me lately. I even talked to Isemaler a couple of mornings ago, and that gave me more to think about... believe it or not. Sometimes... sometimes I forget what it took for either of you to become what you are,” Hiccup said while played with a speck of dust on his jerkin rather than face Jack.

Jack saw the effort Hiccup put forth, and it compelled him to act in kind.

“You weren't wrong about a lot of things,” he quietly said and gazed at his bare feet. “It wasn't fair of them to throw Isemaler at me so soon. I never did get a chance to really live as a mortal. I think the worst part is it wasn't fair to you most of all. Isemaler I can deal with ‘cause I was a lot like him a long time ago, but you got saddled with my responsibility... and you didn't ask for that and they didn't ask if you wanted it.”

“Thanks,” Hiccup said, and he thought of what Snotlout probably felt when he, himself, took partial blame in the death of Hookfang. “I miss you, Jack, but all of this...”

“Hiccup,” Jack interrupted. “You know this takes precedence, right? If that... if Etuchaand gets here and gets a hold of Isemaler's staff, I don't think there's a lot that will stop it from killing everything on Halla, and after Isemaler... Noro might survive, but not any of her other children. I definitely won't live through it's rampage.”

He watched as the color drained from Hiccup's face.

“Yeah, right there with you.”

“How do you even fight something like Etuchaand? It's going to be like fighting your Father Moon. None of us... I guess, mortals are even remotely prepared to face this thing. What do we do, Jack?”

“We do what the Guardians did when you and Nick got captured: we plan and we execute,” Jack said and hoped he sounded braver than he felt. “We consider our strengths, it's weaknesses, and we try to find advantages. We caught a break when Isemaler decided to tell me about his nightmares instead of trying to hide them. He knew something very different, very wrong, was going on in his dreams. He's buying us time and some insight in Etuchaand. It's going to cost him, Hiccup, and it may cost him everything.”

Hiccup sighed, shifted in his seat, and said: “I can't tell anyone about this, can I?”

“Would you say that would make any sense to them or not scare them out of their wits?”

The two men regarded one another for half a minute, each considered the likely outcome of breaking the news to the Vikings. Jack could see in Hiccup's eyes the conclusion he reached. The russet-haired one nodded his head.

“It'd be worse than the civil war,” Hiccup muttered.

“Or it could paralyze them into doing nothing,” Jack offered the other choice.

“What about my mom?”

“If you think she can handle it, then go ahead. She might come up with something we didn't.”

Hiccup stood. He looked around. Jack could not read his expression. Hiccup masked his thoughts, and he saw the concern in the Guardian's eyes. Fear nibbled at the edges of the Viking's mind. However, he stopped himself from giving into it. He looked again at Jack.

“Could we maybe destroy Isemaler's staff before Etuface gets here?” Hiccup questioned.

“Maybe, but I have no idea how. It might take The Man in the Moon... maybe Noro the Skydancer to do it. I know I don't have the power,” Jack replied.

“But the nightmare guy did it one time, right?”

“That might've been a special case, and don't forget how insanely powerful Pitch Black really is... especially at that moment... ‘cause I was feeling weak, too.”

Hiccup looked around and said: “Okay, well... lot to think about and I've got a lot to do today.”

“Me, too,” Jack said.

Without saying anything further the Viking turned and headed toward the front door. He paused for a moment, a surreal reminder of the night he left, and then opened the door and stepped through. When the door closed, Jack allowed himself to recoil and shudder from all going on in his head, including the alien voice. He never dreamed his arrival on Halla over ten years before might not be entirely accidental. Moreover, Jack hated the thought everyone and everything he cared about on the planet might be in danger. Sandy did not disguise what he thought of Etuchaand: the words maniacal psychopath summed it up. It seemed the one called Aletha enjoyed chaos, destruction, and killing on a monumental scale. It disturbed Jack to think his creator also once engaged in similar behaviors.

“I wonder what changed your mind?” Jack asked the empty air as he got up and went to get dressed.

Out on the path leading away from the house and toward the central square of Berk, Hiccup walked and it took all his might to keep his pace steady. His brain replayed the conversation with Isemaler and Jack over and over. Once more he faced concepts and entities far beyond his imagination. In retrospective, traveling to Earth seemed a less risky proposition than some malignant god-creature hurtling toward Halla. At least when on Earth only he and toothless faced danger. Now everything he knew could get wiped out, and Hiccup forced his mind to accept he could do very little to stop it. He needed Jack to find the solution. A small seed of guilt began to sprout in his gut when he thought about his accusations that Jack cared more about Isemaler than him.

“That was stupid,” he muttered to himself.

A shadow passed over Hiccup. Above Toothless rode the air currents. He no longer truly needed a rider since the Yeti crafted the amazing tail piece. It took nearly a year to convince the residents of Berk that he and Jack worked together to make it, and the trips to find a dragon for Jack served as test runs. The level of doubt on the Berkians part proved almost insurmountable. In the end, Fishlegs and Gobber came through and claimed they helped with the design and construction. With three of most inventive minds speaking in one voice, the hubbub surrounding the new tail fin died down, and people eventually accepted it as normal. However, the freedom of flight it offered the dragon worried Hiccup at first. Those fears got waylaid when the night fury steadfastly remained his loyal and true friend.

“Gods, I hope the Yeti can come up with something,” Hiccup murmured to the image of Toothless as the dragon angled in midair and dove toward the smithy.

The Viking felt himself growing dependent on the promise that the vastly intelligent Yeti and the Guardian called the Sandman could find a means to either defeat or, at the least, deflect Etuchaand. If it boasted the same powers as the being who could make a creature like Jack Frost, then it rightly deserved to be feared. Bit by bit he also started to believe Jack's arrival on Halla did not come by way of accident. It just seemed too convenient that the immortal wielding the staff the Moon Father and Etuchaand made together just happened to land in the universe where Etuchaand got banished. New, even stranger questions began to bubble in Hiccup's mind, and none of them brought him any sense of peace. By the time he reached the forge, he felt frantic in want of information.

Toothless demanded some time, and Hiccup gratefully gave in. He spent ten minutes hugging and scratching the dragon until the beast cooed with delight. Despite all the grim news he received, the simple pleasure Toothless received from such a simple act as a tickle along his jawline gave the Viking a small sense of hope. Unfortunately, the thought something might kill Toothless knocked the legs out from his recuperating optimism. After getting Toothless' eyes to droop one last time, Hiccup went into the shop.

“Hiccup?” Fartbritches carefully said his name when the lead smith entered.

“Oh, Farb. Yeah... hi,” Hiccup muttered.

“You okay?”

“Fine, fine.”

“You don't sound fine. Someone said you were at Jack's last night. Get in another fight?” The more junior of the journeymen bravely inquired.

“What. Yes, but no. We talked... a lot. I have stuff to figure out,” Hiccup more or less truthfully replied if one discounted he left out the part about Jack assuming an immaterial form and traveling to a different world.

“Is everything going to be okay?”

Hiccup looked into the face of his colleague and fellow Berkian. He saw hope on the man's face, and realized to it got directed toward him and about him. It took effort, but Hiccup forced a small smile on his face. He suddenly felt grateful for the man's concern and interest.

“We'll work something out, Farb. It might take a while, but... they maybe hope yet,” Hiccup replied and tried to sound more hearty than he actually felt.

“Good, good. The, um, bellows ain't working right this morning,” Fartbritches told him, and Hiccup got transported into his comforting if slightly maddening Viking world.


	6. Chapter 6

Within a few days everyone on Berk wonder what changed in Hiccup and Jack's relationship. Whereas for several weeks the two could barely hold a cordial conversation, the previous days saw them huddling up and discussing things in intense, quiet voices that would cease whenever anyone got near. It caused the gossip mill to work overtime, and Hiccup and Jack ignored it as best they could. The gravity of the situation Jack discovered on Earth and brought to Halla needed to be dissected as much and as quickly as possible before Jack returned to Earth. Hence, it required a number of private and serious talks. Neither one made any public statements about the state of their relationship, and it only added more grist to the mill.

Two weeks after the distressing news got delivered by the Guardian, they decided to inform Valka of the development. Hiccup's mother, when they – and they included Isemaler – finished a concise and detailed accounting of what they knew, spent several hours panicking. Fortunately, Toothless and IceSpike kept Cloudjumper at bay while the two men did everything in their power to calm the woman. Her reaction surprised all of them, and it took an unlikely person to finally get her to collect her wits.

“Valka, don't forget: I will be the first to die,” Isemaler told her in a flat, unaffected voice.

Somehow hearing Isemaler pronounce his own doom without hysterics, a feat both Hiccup and Jack admired, cut through whatever clouded Valka's thinking. Dressed in her usual attire of summer flying gear protected by the coveralls, it stood out when tears leaked out of her eyes and down her face. She scanned Isemaler with her blue eyes with hints of green. Hiccup recognized the expression as one turned on him many times in the past. It showed his mother honestly cared about the Spirit of Winter Joy because she looked seriously worried. With herself back under control, the matron of the Haddock clan walked up to the seeming young man.

“We will find a way to stop this... thing,” she said in a firm, but quiet voice. “We fought the Red Death and won. We fought Drago and the alpha and won. We've even fought ourselves and won... and lost, but we are born fighters, Isemaler. The same is true for your people, and you need to remember and use what they gave you.”

Hiccup and Jack thought she made a tall promise, but said nothing to either one. Valka's words seemed to hearten Isemaler. He deserved all the heart he could get considering what soared toward Halla with him in mind, and quite literally in the spirit's mind. Although it took a few days for the new crisis hurtling through space aimed at their planet to become less frightening to her, Valka told three particular young men to quit bothering her as she started to think. Periodically over the week they reviewed what they already knew and postulated. With only six days to go before Jack embarked on his monthly trip to Earth, Hiccup arrived at the house with Valka pushing him through the door.

“She came up with something,” he said and grimaced at his mother's rough handling.

“It's been right there in front of us the whole time, Jack. It may not be much and likely will only help a little, but the dragons, Jack!” The woman excitedly told him.

“The dragons... what?” Jack rejoined in confusion.

“If they could see you when you got here and they can see Isemaler...”

“They can see Etuchaand. He can't use invisibility to his advantage!”

Jack dropped his fork on the table where he sat eating a meal. He stared at the woman, and then turned the gaze inward. He felt an overwhelming desire to kick himself in the head for not even considering the unique ability of the dragons. His strategic mind began to contemplate how the dragons could be used in thwarting the ancient, powerful being. When he could not see an immediate use, Jack shoved it into the back of his brain to percolate for a while. However, a new notion took it's place.

“I thought about this since I first got here, and I think I can confidently say Noro the Skydancer created the dragons. Their ability to see elementals and immortals can't be a natural evolutionary trait,” he told the mother and son.

“Why?” Hiccup inquired.

“I've got the scars on a different skin to answer that.”

Hiccup's face fell a bit.

“Didn't Noro say she created the spokelsedrakes to pester the other beings... like Isemaler.

Hiccup and Jack nodded in unison.

“Great Odin, Mom!” Her son suddenly piped up. “Could that mean each of the dragons got made for a particular god?”

“They're not gods,” Jack mumbled.

“Maybe not to you, but think about it?”

The trio did think about it, and moment by moment it became a potent hypothesis. 

“Isemaler could be in more danger out there than anyone of us realize,” Valka opined after half a minute of cogitation.

“No wonder he takes refuge here,” Jack murmured. “The dragons on Berk aren't trying to kill him. Sort of explains why he didn't like IceSpike at first. She's a winter dragon after all.”

Hiccup glanced at the floor while a wave of guilt surged through him. He never considered the fact Isemaler might be using their house as a safe haven. He considered what Jack faced once while still an elemental being on the Halla. Of all the invisible entities on the planet, Isemaler commanded the least amount of power. Then the Viking recalled how Isemaler sometimes hid important details of what he faced out in the world, and how irate Jack would become since it left him unable to assist the new Spirit of Winter Joy. If what they conjectured proved correct, some of Isemaler's behavior became more logical: it became vital to his existence.

“I wouldn't even know where to being helping him with those issues,” Jack muttered, seeming to echo Hiccup's thoughts, and he appeared concerned.

“That won't matter much unless we can figure out a way to defeat... defend against this thing coming here to kill him and take his staff,” Valka intoned and managed to set the priorities in correct order.

Once more the two young men nodded.

“I, ah... think we need to talk to Isemaler and find out everything he knows about dragons,” Hiccup recommended.

“And you better get Fishlegs involved in this,” his mother said. “Just let him panic for a few days until he comes to terms with it. It worked wonders for me.”

“But that's a lot of panic, Valka,” Jack grunted.

Hiccup tried to cover his smile and added: “A lot of public panic. People will want to know what's got him so wound up.”

“And then think of how the people of Berk will react when they found out about... everything!” The Guardian flatly stated.

“Then that gives you a reason to find a way to tell him so he doesn't go into a free fall, but we could really use his brain on the dragon end of this. There's got to be some way to inform Fishlegs that will keep him in check,” Valka advised them.

After a small silence in which active thinking almost became audible, Hiccup and Jack glanced at each other and said in unison: “Groanhilde.”

Groanhilde Ingerman complimented her husband in many useful areas. While she did not possess her husband's extreme intelligence, and no one in the village could really match him, she possessed an iron will common among the Berkian women. She did not rule over her mate nor emasculate him. Fishlegs, for his part, never ordered his wife around and routinely went out of his way to accommodate her. Hiccup sometimes thought his old friend feared the woman, but Jack argued Fishlegs adored and loved the woman equal to and if not a bit more than Meatlug. Jack could not forget what Fishlegs said regarding his courtship of the woman. He never told Hiccup that story, correctly believing it one for the stout Viking to divulge as he saw fit, and it gave him some insight into the man's affection for his wife. Thus, with Hiccup's lifelong friendship with the couple and Jack's private knowledge, they started to make quick plans to draft Groanhilde into the coterie of those who knew the truth about Jack, Isemaler, and the unseen parts of Halla.

Two days later, four days before Jack's departure for Earth, the house gleamed. The aroma of food wafted through the air. The table glistened with freshly scrubbed flatware and plates set upon a newly laundered tablecloth. Jack borrowed glass goblets from Tuffnut, one of the Thorston treasures as the pieces often got called, in exchange for half-a-day's labor. Thus, a table fit for a chieftain rested in the traditional Haddock home, and it sat ready to receive guests. Hiccup and Jack dressed in their spiffiest versions of clothes everyone on the island would immediately mark as theirs.

“They're going to know something is up,” Hiccup said, doing an odd dance in his freshly laundered shirt and pants. “It's all too... clean and pretty.”

“Good,” Jack said and folded his arms across his chest. “I want them on edge.”

“Why?”

“Because Groanhilde will instantly start to try and keep him calm.”

“You know way too much about us,” Hiccup grumbled and cast a suspicious eye on him.

“What excuse did you use to get him to come over?” Jack queried.

“Planning for the grand unveiling of the waterwheel.”

“But it doesn't work yet.”

Hiccup shot the Guardian a knowing look, and Jack shifted his gaze in another direction. Ever since he refused to assist with the final construction and testing of the wheel, Hiccup and Fishlegs ran into numerous problems only advanced technical knowledge could likely solve. It remained a sore spot between the Earthling and the rotund Viking with the small winged helmet. The lack of progress resulted in diminution of reputation for both Hiccup and Fishlegs. Most everyone figured out and said aloud the absence of the senior woodworker as the probable cause of the slow down. Snotlout, with his rising reputation, openly said such devices lay far, far outside of his expertise and, thus, he could not offer any assistance. Neither man staring at the table decided to embark on that particular discussion.

When the knock sounded from the door, Hiccup and Jack faced one another, put on pleasant expressions, and went into action. Hiccup approached the door while Jack went to decant the wine, a somewhat unique commodity that would only enhance Fishlegs' wariness. A calculated move on Jack's part. As he poured, the familiar squeak of a hinge reached his ears.

“Groanhilde! Fishlegs! Come in, come in,” Hiccup warmly greeted the two and bade them welcome.

“Oh, smells yummy,” Groanhilde commented in her lilting voice. “Someone's been busy in the kitchen.”

“One guess,” Hiccup told her.

“Wow,” Fishlegs said, and Jack heard the first odd note in the man's voice. “You've really gone all out.”

“It's a special occasion,” the thinner of the three Vikings said.

“He agreed?”

“You'll see.”

“Jack!” Groanhilde called out to the man carrying a tray with four glasses on it. “And wine to boot. Now this is special!”

Groanhilde boasted hair in the same color range as Hiccup, common among the people of Berk, but she tended toward a fairer complexion without the freckles. Like most Berkian woman, she wore her hair in a long single plait tied together with ribbon of red and orange. Her dark eyes glittered with interest as she surveyed the table. Unlike most days when she wore pants as she assisted Fishlegs, Groanhilde wore a simple dark brown flaxen skirt with sharp creases in it. Her muslin blouse covered arms and bodice where a cinched leather vest of bright ocher did not. Like everyone on the island, she wore sturdy boots. Groanhilde walked toward the Guardian in disguise.

“I'd squeeze the life out of you, but wouldn't want you to spill a drop. Get that from Nilsborg?” She asked.

“Good eye,” Jack said in a complementary manner while he walked up to her and offered a glass.

She took it, and gingerly sipped the contents. She smiled despite the small violation of etiquette. Then she took another sip.

“Oh, the southern stuff, this is!” Groanhilde exclaimed.

“Right in one again,” Jack said through a broad smile.

He finished his rounds and met the scrutinizing gaze of Fishlegs without ever batting an eye or acting nervous. The man accepted a glass and walked toward the sitting area where his wife stood and took another sip. Hiccup rounded out the quartet. The foursome dined together in the past, but not since the rift emerged between Hiccup and Jack. Both the Ingermans glanced at the two as if expecting a fight to break out. Hiccup held aloft his glass.

“To a clear horizon, open wings, and the sun to your back,” Hiccup offered what became a traditional dragon rider salute.

“Hie!” The three other's said in unison as they raised their glasses.

After a quick clink of the glasses, they took a deep drink together. Hiccup loved how the wine danced on his tongue. It spoke of fields he never saw and vines he could barely imagine. Jack marveled at the depth of the taste. It became of collage of so many distinct flavors he lost count. Fishlegs and Groanhilde sighed in appreciation.

“This is spectacular. What pressing is it?” He inquired in general.

“Six years back, and Nilsborg said he kept it in a flooded compartment while he sailed to Berk so it wouldn't get warm on the crossing,” Jack supplied the information since he bartered for the few bottles he could ultimately afford.

“The man knows how to care for a good vintage,” Groanhilde remarked with admiration. She took another sip.

“So then,” Fishlegs said after he got a second taste. “What's the real reason for tonight.”

“Got a surprise for you, like I said,” Hiccup stated and made himself sound playfully conspiratorial. “You're really going to want to hear this, but only after we eat.”

“You know I can't eat on nervous stomach.”

“Oh, buck up, will you, Fishlegs. Never knew you to say no to a good bit of fish even if you do have the twitches,” his wife gamely cajoled him. “Besides, no one puts out a spread like this for bad news.”

“I thought you lived your whole life on this island?”

Hiccup and Jack laughed in honest amusement along with Groanhilde. Just as Jack predicted, the woman knew how to handle her husband. Fishlegs grinned. However, he scanned the two other males in the room.

“So are you two...?” Fishlegs asked without directly saying it.

“Those are words for a new sun,” Hiccup said and dismissed it with another traditional Berkian phrase that lightly implied they may never discuss the issue.

“This night is for other news,” Jack chimed in and smiled as naturally as he could.

“But food first,” Groanhilde encouraged them. “I'll not have some talk about that blasted wheel ruin what smells like a fine meal.”

“Then let's have at it,” Jack suggested.

The foursome moved to the dining room. Fishlegs and Groanhilde occupied one side while Hiccup and Jack took the one closest to the galley. They worked as a team bringing the food to the table and presenting it. Jack still gaped at the enormous fish, much like an Earth red snapper, Hiccup managed to get Toothless bring up from a deep part of the ocean a morning's flight away. The dragon did not even leave any tooth marks on it. Jack steamed fillets of the fish in a cooking basket he made some years before, and included some of the best spice both he and Hiccup owned. The aroma filled the room as he pulled it out of the oven. Roasted and mashed tubers along with the closest thing Jack could find to lettuce accompanied the fish. A fresh loaf of crackle-crust bread sat sliced and ready for a spread of light yak butter.

“Just fantastic! Look at that fish!” Groanhilde warbled at the meal.

“Is that a red-eye orange gill?” Fishlegs asked.

“Toothless dragged it up,” Hiccup said as if it took nothing to get the fish.

“Just happened to be diving at his limit, huh?” The largest of the Vikings inquired in a guarded tone.

“Give it a rest, Fishlegs. At least the damn wheel got us a decent meal!”

Jack suppressed the urge to laugh or smile as the woman played her part as if he instructed her. Fishlegs puts aside his questions as the food got passed around. Salad proved an item Jack introduced to the people of the islands. Only the fact the course helped ease digestion and bowel movements made it acceptable to the Berkians. Some still refused to eat what they called ‘gussied-up weeds.' The quartet set to eating with gusto. Hiccup and Jack both glanced at one another with a touch of amazement at their culinary achievement. While each could cook, neither could claim to be a chef. Moreover, Viking fare tended toward roasted meats and anything that could be thrown into a fire pit. As a result, the two men ate with the same zest as their guests. It also played into their ultimate plan as a general feeling of comradery and good will infused the scene.

“What a lovely spot of a meal that was!” Groanhilde exclaimed as she licked the last of the honeyed nuts from her fingers.

“Exceptional,” Fishlegs commended them.

“Turned out a lot better than I thought it would,” Jack admitted his own surprise.

“Yeah,” Hiccup seconded the statement.

Fishlegs then narrowed his eyes, a sure sign his mind worked overtime during the meal, and asked: “What is this all about?”

“You know the waterwheel?” Hiccup blandly inquired as he picked at this teeth with a fork.

“Yes.”

“'Course he knows,” his wife laughed out the words. “It's all he's been thinking ‘bout for the past month. Jack, please tell me you're going to let them use your cleaver little brain again so they can be done with this whole steaming idea.”

Jack simply raised his eyebrows. He stuck to the plan and script he and Hiccup concocted. Instead of speaking, he took another drink of the pale lager they served with desert.

“Well, it's not about that,” Hiccup continued.

“Oh, then what is it about?” Fishlegs pressed.

“Isemaler,” the leaner of the Vikings said without pause.

Fishlegs began to sputter as the color drained from his face and his eyes darted toward his wife.

“Lovely story that one is. The whole idea of some young man painting with ice, making fun in the snow...”

“Is entirely true, Groanhilde,” Hiccup calmly interjected.

Fishlegs fell off his chair while making a choking sound. The woman laughed. She laughed alone. She glanced between the two men who remained sitting.

“What? You mean to say some invisible boy goes floating around creating snowflakes and snowball fights while making ice ferns on glass and puddles of water?” Groanhilde queried, but she did not sound serious.

“It used to be my job, but I gave it up so I could be with Hiccup,” Jack said as though explaining how he cooked the fish.

They all heard a metal thunk when Fishlegs head hit the floor.

“What's gotten into him?” She asked as she glanced down at her now passed out husband.

“He never thought we'd tell you, and he's known almost since the beginning. Must've been too much for him to hear me just come right out and say it,” Hiccup speculated on the obvious cause.

Groanhilde set down her spoon and pushed her plate further toward the center of the table. She fixed first Hiccup and then Jack with a fierce gaze. Her dark eyes all but sizzled. Jack understood why: her hackles rose in protection of her mate. He unflinchingly met her gaze. Hiccup likewise did not appeared disturbed by the visual assault. They previously discussed how she would likely react at first, and she lived up to the most probable scenario. Fishlegs passing out, however, only proved to be a bonus and sped the situation along.

“You want me to believe you were some kind ghost lad, Jack, who comes and goes with the winter to entertain the village children?” The woman asked for clarification.

Jack nodded. She shifted her eyes toward Hiccup. The lean Viking shrugged and nodded as well.

“Actually, he arrived at the start of the winter when we had that stupid civil war,” Hiccup said and did not hide his momentary feelings about the event. “He was the one who came and got me from where I was setting up a new home... and then helped me and Toothless fly here. Ever wonder why your husband, Gobber, and my mother arrived three days later?”

Groanhilde frowned at them. Fishlegs made a burbling noise as he started to rouse. The woman looked down at him again.

“And you're telling me this one,” and she jerked her thumb in the direction of her supine husband, “knew about it all along?”

“The day he came and got me from the island was the day Fishlegs found out. My mom knew about Jack first... when he was Isemaler,” Hiccup explained in a level voice.

“I could get up right now from this table, march down to dragon cave, and ask Valka if Jack is...”

“Used to be,” Jack corrected her.

She eyed him in a dangerous manner and continued: “Jack used to be Isemaler, and she'd tell me it was so?”

Hiccup and Jack both nodded.

“What a load of bleeding tosh!”

“Want proof?” Jack asked.

“Oh, I'd love to see some proof if you've got it!” Groanhilde pounced on the offer.

“Hiccup?” The Guardian requested with the name.

“Isemaler, I know you lurking around here somewhere, and it's okay if you come in... this time. We need Fishlegs' help, and we won't get it if Groanhilde isn't part of it,” Hiccup said. After a few seconds he added: “And I'm not mad at you.”

“Are you sure?” A voice drifted out of nowhere, yet seemingly close by.

Groanhilde's eyes sprang wide open and she looked around with an expression of real fear.

“I'm sure,” the Viking assured the spirit. “And be nice to Groanhilde. She's probably a better person than all of us combined.”

At the side of the table nearest Hiccup but across from Groanhilde, Isemaler popped into view.

“Great Freya!” Groanhilde shrieked and then toppled over onto the floor.

“At least they're consistent,” Jack quipped as he stood and peeked over the edge of the table at the unconscious husband and wife team.

“Save it,” Hiccup ordered him while he stood and took in the sight. “She's out cold.”

“I didn't do anything wrong, did I?” Isemaler begged.

“No, my friend, you did exactly as we asked you,” Jack assured him.

Isemaler smiled and seemed pleased by Jack's words.

“Now what to do we do?” Hiccup inquired.

“Fishlegs is coming around,” the spirit said and floated half way through the table.

Hiccup and Jack left their spots and trotted around to tend to their friends. Jack initially aimed for Groanhilde, but Hiccup interceded and gave him a wan look. The reason became obvious, so Jack looked after Fishlegs who struggled to gain a sitting position. He rubbed the back of his head at the point where it struck the floor.

“Are you okay?” Jack asked him.

“What is wrong with you, Hiccup?” Fishlegs exclaimed in a muzzy manner. “Why'd you bring up Isemaler?”

“'Cause I need your help,” Isemaler said and leaned over so he became visible to the man.

“Ugh...” the larger Viking said and made to faint again.

“Don't you dare,” Jack said and grabbed the man by the front of his vest. “You're not doing any good by passing out.”

“You can't tell Groanhilde anythi... why is she laying on the floor?”

“Isemaler showed himself and she fainted like you did,” Hiccup said from where knelt and fanned Groanhilde's face.

In a rare display of physical acumen, Fishlegs bounded to his feet. He looked wildly about, his blonde hair waving in reaction. Panic suffused his features, but he mostly aimed it at his wife.

“Have you lost your pocking minds! What in the name of dragon dung made you think this is a good idea?” He yelled at the trio attending him and his wife.

“Um, the fact we're all in some pretty bad danger,” Isemaler said in an apologetic manner.

“What does he mean we're all in danger?” Fishlegs grunted at the two mortal men. Fear and panic clearly warred for control over the man.

“You're not leaving this house until you fully understand what it is stake,” Hiccup led with a warning. “I don't care if you pass out ten times, you're not going to go running through village scaring the scales off of everyone.”

“Fishlegs?” Groanhilde murmured from the floor.

Fishlegs quickly moved around the chairs and knelt at this wife's side. He took her hand and patted it several times. She opened her eyes. Hiccup watched as two looked at one another, and their affection for each other became obvious. With a gentleness born of love, Fishlegs helped his wife sit up.

“First... that outlandish story, but... how... that... boy,” Groanhilde muttered as she shifted her gaze around.

“I'm not a boy,” Isemaler said and peered over the table at her.

Groanhilde screamed again. She also made to faint a second time, but Fishlegs caught her before she could fall backward. He held her close. Groanhilde wrapped her arms around her husband as much as she could. They sought comfort in one another.

“It's okay. It's okay, Hildy,” Fishlegs quietly assured her while stroking her now disorganized hair. “I know it seems scary... well, it is kind of scary, but no one is going to hurt you. I promise and swear on my life... on Meatlug's life.”

Anyone who knew Fishlegs understood the gravity of the vow. The words seemed to calm his wife a bit. After a couple of moments, she glanced at Hiccup with deep distrust on her visage. She then turned it toward Jack who walked over to assist with the woman. All in all, he thought, a fairly typical Viking reaction.

“Groanhilde, I'm still the same person I've always been,” he quietly told her.

“Oh, really? So I shouldn't bother to give it a thought you're some child's made up imaginary friend?” Groanhilde growled at him.

“You've slapped me around enough to know I'm real,” Jack dryly remarked.

“Groanhilde, he is real. He was given a new mortal body to live out a mortal life... more or less,” Hiccup told her.

She glanced around at the three mean, and Isemaler fortunately kept himself out of view, before she said: “What kind of cruel... terrible joke are you pulling on me? I would expect this from Tuffnut, but not you three!”

Jack sat down on the floor next to Fishlegs, and he credited the man for not flinching. 

“Groanhilde, you need to meet and acknowledge Isemaler and know he's also real,” Jack said in as calm and direct manner as he could. “Something truly terrible is on its way here, and we need both you and Fishlegs to help.”

“I'm no believing in a child's fantasy...”

“I'm not a fantasy,” Isemaler said and leaned over the edge of the table one again.

Groanhilde shrieked for a third time and pointed at Isemaler while her face turned pale.

“Dammit, Isemaler, doing that is not helping,” Hiccup told the immortal young man.

“Well what do you want me to do? She's the one who keeps saying I'm not real... and that hurts... and I mean it physically hurts!”

The Spirit of Winter Joy frowned at the foursome sitting on the floor.

“Power of belief, Hiccup,” Jack reminded the Viking.

Fishlegs held up one hand and said: “Wait. You mean belief works both ways? If she doesn't believe, then that takes something from him.”

“Yes,” Jack and Isemaler said in unison.

“Fishlegs, you actually knew about... this... thing?” His wife rounded on him and spit out the words.

“Everything Hiccup and Jack said is true, Hildy,” the man quietly said to his wife. “Jack came here as Isemaler, but... well, there are things on this world that can attack him, and they did. He died because of it, but then... well, Hiccup says the gods of our world granted him a chance to live a full mortal life. He never had that back on his world.”

“Jack's not from this world? I don't believe you! Why are you saying these things to me?” Groanhilde barked in a state of building fear and panic.

“Honey, sweet-ums, I know exactly how you feel. I felt the same way for a long time. All of this scared me too, but Jack... well, you know Jack. You know what he's like, and he's always been kind and brave and willing to help anyone out. Look what he did for Snotlout.”

Hiccup glanced at Jack. In all they discussed while setting up the evening, they never counted on Fishlegs being the one who would be display a rational and reserved mind. The situation drifted far afield from what they imagined, and Hiccup realized they would need to be extra creative to keep the woman from running screaming from the house. He scrunched his face at Jack. Jack nodded.

“Isemaler, show her... give Groanhilde a special show, please,” Jack inquired of the spirit after a few seconds of thought.

Isemaler stuck his hand out over the edge of the table. He wiggled his fingers. Small snowflakes started to appear in the air as the temperature around them began to drop. Jack made a mental note to compliment the Spirit of Winter Joy on a fine display of control. With one eye he watched Isemaler and kept the other on the woman. Groanhilde glanced around and studied the snow fall. She held out a hand and let the flakes land on her palm where they melted and left behind small droplets of water. Her eyes grew big again, but not in a state of surprise.

“This is really snow!” She said in an excited whisper. “Here it is summer, and there's snow falling around me... inside a house. How... Fishlegs?”

“I'm the Spirit of Winter Joy,” Isemaler spoke first and leaned over so he could be seen. A smile lit his face. “I am the twinkle of snow on a cold, crisp day. The wind that bites the nose. The snowball that begins the play of children. I am the herald of winter and the joy to be found in the deep, cold months. What Lord of Winter brings, I make fun!”

Groanhilde watched Isemaler. As he spoke, he started to gleam as the powers coalesced in his body. Glints of light like small diamonds sparkled around the outstretched hand of the spirit. He began to laugh, and it came out clean and clear like a the chime of a bell on a winter day. Jack giggled first, and then both Hiccup and Fishlegs followed suit. Rarely did Jack feel the power of the Spirit of Winter Joy in such a direct, human fashion. It made him want to run around and act the fool. He saw a reflection of what he felt on the faces around him, including Groanhilde.

“There you are,” Isemaler said to Groanhilde and more snow fell as he began to chuckle.

“This is amazing,” she whispered in complete awe of the forces Isemaler skillfully commanded.

“Well done,” Jack said to his colleague, and then he laughed.

The Spirit of Winter Joy infused everyone sitting on the floor. Within moments they all began to laugh, and it arrived without constraint or stress. Hiccup felt something wash through him, and a grimness he long harbored got shaken to its core. He felt it crack and weaken. Memories of the first glorious flights he took with with Toothless raced through his mind. He recalled the pure thrill he felt, the unmitigated freedom, from being aloft on such a magnificent creature. Times when they played hide and seek in the snow came to mind. It seemed fitting. Finally, he remembered seeing Jack's face once more after that terrible day when he believed he lost him forever. Hiccup laughed because nothing else seemed appropriate.

“I never realized what this is like,” Jack mumbled in total wonder as he looked first at Hiccup and then at Isemaler.

The Spirit of Winter Joy winked at him and said: “I remember the first time I felt your power, Jack, and... it made all the days seem brighter. It made me want to run into the snow and play until I couldn't move a muscle. That's when I knew nothing is lost when a laugh can be had.”

The two hosts and the playful spirit then gazed at Groanhilde and Fishlegs. An impish grin kept tripping across her face. Anyone looking at her could still see doubt in her eyes, but the gifts of the Spirit of Winter Joy continued to hold sway. She turned first to her husband, and Fishlegs simply nodded his head. Then she glanced at Hiccup and Jack.

“This is why we need him,” Hiccup said and tilted his head toward Isemaler. “Ever since Jack arrived and got it started... and then Isemaler took over, I can't imagine a winter without either of them. It's mainly for the children, but... don't we all need it, too?”

Groanhilde nodded. Jack took a hold of her hand. She glanced down at it. He squeezed it gently.

“Something terrible, deadly is coming to our world to destroy Isemaler and take his staff. None of us will be spared. We need Fishlegs' knowledge, but we realized we couldn't dominate his time without telling you why,” Jack stated and smiled at her. “And this is why.”

“I... don't know what to make of all this,” she replied. “It seems like I should fear it, but it all feels so... silly.”

The Guardian twisted his head around and upward to look at Isemaler and said: “Maybe you need to turn it down a little, and, trust me, I know how hard that is to do!”

Isemaler withdrew his hand. After half a minute the snow stopped falling, and, despite the area of wetness surrounding her, Groanhilde frowned when it did. The temperature around the quartet eased and began to rise. Bit by bit Hiccup and Jack felt as though something went missing. From the expression on their guests' faces, they felt the same. They got their feet.

“How does he do that?” Groanhilde asked and stared at the table where Isemaler now lay across it.

“He's mostly immaterial most of the time,” Hiccup replied.

“No, the snow and that... incredible feeling,” she clarified.

“Before you answer,” Hiccup pounced before Jack could open his mouth. “Don't give her one that will give her a headache. Please.”

Jack nodded and then said: “There are all types of energy that surround us, are part of us, and Isemaler has the power to change it so people's mood becomes playful.”

Hiccup bobbed his head once in thanks.

“Oh, and quantum,” the Earthling added for good measure.

Fishlegs burst into normal laughter. Hiccup rolled his eyes, but he smiled nonetheless. Groanhilde watched her husband and his two friends, her friends as well, and seemed perplexed. Fishlegs faced her.

“You've got a question, my sweet?” He asked her.

“How'd you keep this from everyone for ten years?” She inquired and sounded a bit irritated.

“It's a long story,” Hiccup responded.

“How much wine do you have?” The woman queried.

“Um, three... four more bottles. I fixed a lot of furniture on Nilsborg's ship,” Jack told her.

“Then talk ‘til you run out,” Groanhilde firmly stated and sat at the table facing Isemaler.

The three mortal men exchanged a glance, and then went about getting ready to tell the woman a rather incredible tale. The hosts knew it would segue into the developing crisis. They hoped by the end of the stories both Fishlegs and Groanhilde would understand why they needed Fishlegs to assist. Moreover, they also knew they could seriously use her help as well. Even though he knew he would miss it during the winter months, Jack would expend every drop of the precious wine to win their support.


	7. Chapter 7

Jack sat up in bed, panting and sweating, and held the sides of his skull. For two days since he returned from Earth, the voice in his head relentlessly spoke. It seemed a good deal louder than what he experienced a month before, and he wondered how Isemaler withstood the mental anguish. Of course, the Spirit of Winter Joy told them he spent half his time sitting under the biggest waterfalls he could find on Halla in the hopes of blocking it out. Jack pressed his hands harder against his skull.

“I am near! I draw closer! The Sickle of Elada is mine, and will be mine again and always,” the voice crowed between Jack's ears. “The child of Elada will die and the Sickle will be mine!”

Over and over without pause it repeated the same phrases. Sometimes Jack could block it out, but only time would save him from the agony. He knew within another day or two the voice would fade and peace would temporarily be his again. It made Jack think of the fact Isemaler never got respite from the voice, and yet he carried on with his duties day in and day out. Of late Isemaler became more admirable and, in certain respects, more worthy of the name and the mantle of the Spirit of Winter Joy. As he listened to the voice, Jack resolved to find a way to deny Etuchaand of his goals. In the meantime, sleep would not be his, so he rose and got dressed.

IceSpike roused and watched him. Jack went to her and laid his head against the scales covering the top of her head and neck. Although a winter dragon, he felt the warmth of her blood and held his face against it. IceSpike cooed at him while he stroked the side of her face and scratched under her chin. He tried to fly with her every day, and he succeeded most of the time even if only resulted in a quick trip around the island. Jack could not believe how much he came to love the beast over the years. It opened a world of understanding regarding Hiccup, the rare Viking who sought to befriend dragons instead of killing them. Gaining the affection, loyalty, respect, and trust of a dragon altered Jack's life, anyone's life, in limitless ways. Emotion swept though him as he shared a quiet moment with his beloved winged friend.

“We'll find a way to stop it,” he promised her, and then kissed the top of her scaled head. “I will pound him... it into slush if so much as harms a single talon on you!”

Deep within Jack felt energies stir, and it gave him pause. He got entirely used to being cut off from the powers on Halla that would make him the elemental Jack Frost, the original Isemaler. To feel again the swirl of forces deep in his stomach made him wonder. He thought again of Hiccup's complaints that he never got the chance to live a real mortal life, and the sensation that passed as quickly as it arrived reminded him the fact. Jack knew it denied Hiccup even more. The Viking never got to experience normal life with Jack. Be it Isemaler or his monthly traverse to Earth, Hiccup got far more than he bargained, and not in the best manner.

“Love you,” he whispered to IceSpike, kissed her head again, and left the dragon to resume her sleep.

As he approached the steps, Jack heard the tell-tale sound of Hiccup: a gentle purr of a snore. The man once again held vigil over him as he ventured to and from his home planet. When Jack awoke that first morning with the voice of Etuchaand rattling in his head, Hiccup dragged the truth from Jack and refused to leave him on his own. The Guardian walked down the steps he and Hiccup built together all those years ago, and he paused when he reached the landing. He spied Hiccup sprawled on the floor, a makeshift mattress made of layers of winter blankets underneath his lean frame, and half his head covered by his favorite lumpy pillow. A battle of emotions immediately started as the Guardian looked at the Viking with a mixed sense of longing and love, not to mention a healthy dose of lust, and wondered what paths they would take in the future. Jack could not see beyond the point of Etuchaand's arrival, and it angered him.

The short walk to the gallery got betrayed by a squeaking floorboard both men vowed to repair for at least the past five years. Jack swore at it and the voice in his head. He did not need to wager on what would happen. Hiccup sat bolt upright, the pillow slid off his face, and he glanced around in a bleary fashion. He blinked and yawned. Then he saw Jack standing in the kitchen.

“Did it wake you up?” The man on the floor asked the rather pointless question.

Jack nodded. Trying to avoid the discussion that would only infuriate Hiccup. He did not want to start the morning, a very early one at that, with an argument. The Viking climbed at bit unsteadily to his feet since sleep did not fully dissipate from his brain. Jack bit back on a childish giggle when he saw the front of Hiccup's nightshirt tenting outward. For a brief second he could not hear the voice as he imagined what he would find under the thin material. Different forces began to stir in the Guardian's slightly exhausted body. Two nights of only intermittent sleep did not refresh him in the least. However, seeing Hiccup in the morning condition and his personal reaction to it buoyed him.

“Go back to sleep,” Jack suggested.

Hiccup ignored him and walked forward.

“Seriously, I'll be okay. This'll pass in a day or two.”

“I'm not leaving you to go through this alone,” Hiccup said in a groggy but firm tone. “At least Isemaler has waterfalls to help him.”

“True, but he hears the voice all the time... nonstop,” Jack reminded the man.

Hiccup came to a half barely two feet before in front of him. Jack saw the worry in the man's face, and it added more turmoil to the warring emotions in his heart and mind. Every part of him, save a small piece of his brain that currently cast all deciding votes, wanted to reach out and kiss Hiccup. However, he knew a simple kiss would not solve the issues between them. That would take time and much discussion. Unfortunately, the current crisis did not leave room for that.

“You look tired,” Hiccup informed him of the obvious.

Jack shrugged and replied: “There's evil voice in my head and all, so I think it's to be expected.”

“And you didn't hear it on Earth?”

“Like I told you the last fifteen times you asked, no,” the Guardian answered with a grin. “I don't think this thing is that powerful. I mean, I never hear the Man on the Moon here.”

“You don't even hear him on Earth, so...” Hiccup gamely rejoined and smirked as well.

“Good point.”

They smiled at their own joke.

“Hiccup, you don't have to...”

“Yes, I do, Jack,” Hiccup interjected. “I know we still have a lot to figure out, but... half the reason you're on Halla is because of me. At least the reason you stayed. You could've listened to... the song.”

“I could barely hear it,” Jack said when the man refused to say anything further about Aita. “I had a, ah, different voice in my head. One I needed to answer to first.”

Their eyes locked in the very dim light cast by a lone candle in the sitting room. They both felt they needed to say so much to one another, and yet neither spoke. Once again a seemingly mystical force got between them. Hiccup, in lieu of words, reached up and stroked Jack's cheek. The supple, warm flesh that felt entirely human called to him. He simply wanted to take the man from another world into his arms and kiss him until everything seemed right in the world, except he knew it would be an illusion. No matter what he did, a Guardian would forever lurk under the human skin, and that would always press on Jack's mind. Sometimes Hiccup could not imagine how the one he deeply loved, in spite of their recent past, could bear up under such responsibility and the weight of the troubles it brought.

“I do love you,” Hiccup said because his thoughts pushed the words from his mouth.

“I know. I've always known,” Jack whispered and something in his mind cried loud enough that it drowned out the other voice for a second. “If I could...”

“Please, Jack, don't say it. I can't... not now. Not with all this going on,” the Viking begged and lowered his arm.

Jack bobbed his head once and bit his tongue to stop from speaking.

“If and when this is over, I promise we'll talk and... and... say everything,” Hiccup vowed to both himself and the other man.

“I'm going to hold you to that,” the Guardian warned.

Hiccup used the declaration to end one topic and start another: “'Til then, Fishlegs, Groanhilde, and my mom want to have a meeting tonight to discuss what else you learned. It would help if Isemaler could be involved, too. Fishlegs thinks he came up with a way to figure out when Etuchaand will get here based on what Isemaler hears... in his head.”

“We already know the louder it gets the closer it gets,” Jack countered.

“But Fishlegs thinks he developed a method to rate the level and made some broad calculations on it. He also wants to do an experiment with Isemaler if he'll agree. Could be useful.”

“We need all the data we can get, so let's call the meeting.”

“I'll take care of organizing it. You've got too much on your mind right now.”

“That was the worst pun,” Jack droned, but he smirked nonetheless.

“I didn't intend to make a pun, but I'll accept your accolades,” Hiccup replied and grinned.

“Kind of pushing it with the whole accolades notion. Not sure anyone anywhere passes out awards for unintentional puns.”

“Okay, let's just call it a slip of the tongue.”

“Oh, gods, stop!” Jack said and laughed, and it felt good to laugh. “Coffee?”

“Sure. I don't think I'm going back to sleep anyway,” Hiccup accepted as he looked out the window and saw the gray bump of dawn on the western horizon.

Jack spent four years scouring Halla for a plant or seed that could be ground up, sieved with hot water, and would yield some form of caffeine. He forced Isemaler to search when he changed hemispheres as winter shifted from north to south. Like Earth, the equator remained tropical, but only a few hundred miles north and south of the equator, varied seasons took over. Halla rotated on only a slight tilt of a few degrees; hence the weather tended to be more even between the upper and lower half of the world. Isemaler worked all year long, unlike Jack who usually found too much time on his hands during the winter season in the southern hemisphere of Earth. Isemaler squeezed in horticultural side trips whenever he could.

They eventually discovered a hard seed from a plant in the narrow sub-tropical band of the southern hemisphere. It could be roasted and ground like Earth coffee beans, but the similarities tended to end there. Unlike two-thirds of the bark, cherry, and seed samples Isemaler brought that proved poisonous to varying levels, the usable ones never produced a real coffee. The stimulating effects of the seed Isemaler discovered required regulation. He mixed a four to one ratio of the Hallan coffee seed grounds with ground up nuts. In the end he got something that only very vaguely tasted like hazel nut coffee, but provided a kick several times that of Earth coffee. Few Berkians actually liked it, and most tasted it once out of deference to Jack. Hiccup grew to appreciate the stimulating aspect despite the dismal taste. The Viking tended to add a lot of honey to brew. Jack never expressed his final opinion, but he privately found it mildly disgusting and drank it for the same reason as Hiccup.

After downing two cups of the not-anything-like-coffee-except-the-caffeine coffee, Hiccup headed back to his room at the dragon caves to get cleaned up and put on a fresh set of clothes. Jack sat at the table trying to avoid listening to the voice in his head. Fortunately, the brew he concocted tended to make blood rush through his ears, so Etuchaand's voice sounded as if an ocean surf broke in the background. Jack could only think of one other sound he could use to fill his ears. Despite the early hour, he went to IceSpike's nest. There he hugged her again and said the words the set her body to wagging. After which, Jack donned some of his lightweight flying gear and went out to the porch.

The sound of the wind rushing past his head made Jack breath a sigh of relief as it overrode a good portion of the alien voice. IceSpike hummed and warbled in delight at the early morning flight, and that too proved a decent distraction from listening to Etuchaand. Far below the sea undulated like a mysterious gray mass since the sun only just neared the horizon. The hump of lighter gray did not promise any rain or storms since it did not turn a peach or rosy color. The few clouds overhead meant the Thunder Queen, Blikse'fey, lurked elsewhere, and he hoped Isemaler stayed out of her way. Jack sat back in the saddle and allowed the steady flight of his beloved woolly howl to lull into a long moment of peace. They flew in a northeasterly direction and the long winding tip of the Berkian archipelago stretched outward.

The rumble Jack felt rise up through his legs snapped him out of his reverie. For well over half an hour the duo flew without disturbance, but IceSpike alerted him. Jack leaned from one side to the other until he caught sight of what the dragon's keen vision already spotted. Years of training with Hiccup and the other dragon riders sprang to the fore. He counted ships, noted the sizes of each one, and studied the wake path. He wished the sun sat higher so he could examine the sigils on the sails. When IceSpike set up a rhythmic drone of warning, Jack paid attention. He strained his eyes and used his knees to get his dragon to fly lower.

“Those are war ships,” he confirmed to himself as saw the outlines of deck ballistae and racks of bolts. “And I don't like which way they're headed.”

He sat and thought for a few moments while IceSpike silently glided on the air currents. She began to bank in a huge arch as taught to do when flying over unknown ships. The vessels ran without lights on the bow or stern, and only the glow from the portholes gave away much information in the very new dawn. The sails appeared trimmed for velocity instead of maneuverability, and it all indicated the sailors wanted to move in stealth. Jack felt his hackles raise. The penchant of Vikings to wage war on one another angered him the most, and the apparent sneak attack this group seemed to be planning infuriated him. He debated whether he should perform a flyby in order to fully identify the clan, but caution argued against it. Instead, he aimed IceSpike toward Berk and urged her to speed.

Forty minutes later he directed his dragon to land on the bell spire affixed to the main dragon cavern. She barely made talon hold on the rock when Jack unbuckled himself and vaulted from her back. He ran to the small tower, scaled the few short steps, and seized the clapper rope. With all his might Jack began to swing the clapper and the klaxon sounded. It rang out over the village dappled with fresh sunlight. Within thirty seconds he heard yelling and dragons took to the sky. Knowing the people reacted appropriately to the alarm, Jack returned to IceSpike and together they flew down to the caves that now bustled with nervous activity. People swarmed toward him, including Hiccup and Valka. A circled formed and opened to provide landing space for his dragon.

“Fourteen ships coming in form the northeast about a half an hour of fast woolly howl flight behind me... just south of the outward islands” he said as loudly as he could. “A dreadnought, six frigates, and seven wide-hulled beach landers!”

A fearful murmur set up around him.

“Who?” Hiccup yelled.

“Too dark to make out the sails when I spotted them, and they're armed for dragons, so I didn't fly in too close,” Jack dutifully reported.

“Smart thinking,” Valka said in a grimly approving manner. Then she spun to face the crowd. “Someone go find Rancid and Gustav to get the sweep patrols in the air. Send message terrors to all the ship captains to set sail for the south and to move now! We've only got about three hours, four at best, to prepare!”

People sprang into action. Mother and son cornered the Guardian. Hiccup appeared fierce by the set of his face, and he already started shucking into his fighting flight armor.

“Mom, I'm going to lead the alpha strike force out to where Jack spotted the fleet,” Hiccup told her, and he held up a hand when Jack opened his mouth. “No, fast as IceSpike is, you just came off a flight and you haven't slept in two days, Jack. We need bright eyes and clear minds on this... and you've done more than enough bringing us the warning.”

“Still hearing it, hmm?” Valka rhetorically asked. “You'll be too distracted to be any good in an air battle, Jack, and don't argue. Fly the perimeter of the island if it makes you feel better, join the beach defense if you want, but no open-water fighting. That's an order!”

Jack knew better than to argue with Valka when she spoke in those tones. Hiccup nodded once, and then sprinted away as he called out for Toothless. All around dragons of every color and size jumped into the air. The formidable dragon force Berk amassed over the years seemed to turn into a gigantic living organism as training and Viking instinct took control. Jack felt oddly left out. A hand reached under his chin and lifted his face.

“He's right, Jack: the warning you brought is the best thing you could've done. That alone earns you your wings today,” she said as both the senior dragon woman and as his mother-in-law. “You've been under a lot of pressure lately, and those of us who know can't believe how well you're bearing up to it.”

“I'm a Guardian,” he quietly replied as if it explained everything.

“Aye, that you are, Jack. That you are.”

Hiccup rested on his belief Jack would not defy Valka as he buckled into his flying jacket and raced toward the main cave entrance with a dozens other dragon riders. Deep down he glowed with pride at the efficiency and speed with which the flights of riders and dragons acted. They trained constantly for such contingencies. Almost two years elapsed since the last large invasion force appeared, and that came with squadron of hostile dragons as well. Hiccup raced to his night fury that waited in a crouch while Hiccup veered off to get a battle saddle made specifically to fit any number of dragon sizes. It saved time in finding a specific one. He adjusted his thinking as he ran to Toothless and prepared to strap the device to the ebony back.

“Alright, up!” He shouted after expertly attaching the saddle and strapping himself into the seat.

Hiccup did not fly alone. Half a dozen each of boulder and strike class dragons already dotted the sky. He watched as the flight wings began to fill. Each squadron got designed to best use the abilities of the dragons. Stoker and strike classes acted as the aerial combat and long-range assault troops, while boulder, sharp, and tidal classes would work in unison to damage or sink ships. Hiccup never lost sight of the fact people would likely die on both sides should fighting erupt. Berk often relied on the sizable force it could send into the air to dissuade others from attacking. It reached a higher success rate than he ever imagined, but some of the marauding clans refused to yield. Given the information Jack passed, and he felt another swell of pride in exact details the man collected, it seemed this group nearing Berk tried for a sneak attack.

Six full fighting wings, three dozen dragons in all, assembled in vee formations and hovered in the air waiting for his orders. Despite some wondering if the twins should lead a squad, the slightly demented duo showed real leadership and their fliers tended to be exceptionally loyal to them. Rancid, Hiccup's most trusted lieutenant, also rode at the fore of wing. Even though ten years of barely treating one another like human beings existed between them, Hiccup could not deny Astrid's prowess as a warrior and a flight leader. The range of people who managed to step forward and impress him with their skill and willingness to take huge risks on dragon back meant he got forced to rotate between squad leaders. In this case, the most able and sharpest took to the front.

Below on the southeast side of the island Hiccup could already see Berkian ships setting sail. The collapsible ramps and folding docks, once retracted, would deny the invading force any chance to use them to attack Berk. The marauders would need to utilize the northern beaches to make landing, and those would be defended by dragon and Viking alike. Whoever persisted in attempting to storm the beaches would find themselves ankle deep in their own blood and roasted skin. All of this ran through Hiccup's mind as he shot up to the wing awaiting him. Seconds later, he used the complex hand signals to indicate the direction and distance they would fly. 

As one, thirty-six dragons wheeled about to face northeast and began to fly at a long-distance pace. It would not serve to arrive at a battle already tired for overflying. Hiccup sat astride Toothless and admired the focused intent of the dragon. He patted his winged companions neck to communicate his feelings. Toothless warbled in acknowledgment. With that, Hiccup settled in for the first part of the defense of Berk.

Jack flew IceSpike around the village of Berk. She seemed grossly annoyed at being denied joining the fighting forces. The Guardian did not know how to tell her the fault lay with him and not her. Try as he might, he could still hear Etuchaand's voice even against the pounding of blood in his ears at the prospect of a battle. Just as he thought about circling around the island, he saw a familiar figure standing near the entrance of the forge and woodshop. Even from a distance Snotlout cut a distinctive figure, and he watched the squadrons of dragons heading off to meet the invading fleet. Jack directed IceSpike to fly toward and land near the shops. Snotlout, dressed in his normal dark attire, watched him the entire time.

“That is one good looking dragon,” Snotlout said, but an old pain rippled in his voice. “She really seems attached to you. I thought woolly howls were hard to train?”

“Oh, IceSpike can be a handful, but... I think we understand each other deep down,” Jack said and tried to diminish the abundant pride he felt in his scaled friend.

“Nice,” the former dragon rider quietly stated.

After a few moments, an idea sparked in Jack's head, and he said: “Snotlout, you couldn't've picked a better time to show up. With Hiccup and Mouldy in the air, we need an extra hand in the shop just in case they do decide to invade.”

“Who's coming?” The man asked in a knowing manner.

“Never saw the sails. Too dark. Running without lights, too.”

“Oh, sneaky bastards. Hope they sink!”

The Guardian and the Viking shot one another a fierce glance and nodded.

“Why are you grounded? I'd think a woolly howl would come in handy on an aerial assault?” Snotlout perceptively inquired.

“Haven't slept well in a couple of nights, and I flew early this morning. Valka put me on island detail,” Jack explained.

“Would not want to go up against her... and I thought Hiccup was bad!”

The men then shared a chuckle. When that subsided, Snotlout eyed Jack for a moment. It made the Earthling feel a bit uncomfortable.

“How are you and Hiccup doing? Heard he was spending more time at the house,” the young but grizzled man asked without any prelude.

Jack nodded and replied: “Hard to say. There's a lot we've got to figure out between us... but we are talking again. Sometimes it's weird with me not being from here. You probably heard what some people are saying.”

“I don't pay them any attention. They still call me a good for nothing drunk.”

“Well, I hear nothing but praise about you from the people who hired you,” the Guardian said in defense of his friend. “You're on time, you're fair in the barter, and you deliver more than promised more often than not. Did you know not a single person has asked me to carve a single thing in almost a month? You've taken all that business.”

Snotlout winced and said: “Sorry.”

“Sorry? Sorry for what? Hotburple spit, Snotlout, do you know how much of a relief it is for me to not have to do all that carving? Even with you teaching me?”

“You are getting a lot better... at least on the simple decorative stuff.”

“And may I never become proficient, Master Snotlout!”

The man's face turned the color hot forge coal. Jack did not damn Snotlout with feint praise. He meant what he said about everything. Those for whom the Viking worked regularly returned to heap praises on his execution and skill. Jack routinely went around to see the completed work, and it astounded him without fail. Snotlout turned out to be an artist and not simply a woodcarver.

“Snotlout, whatever past you have is in the past. Leave it there. If others can't forget it, then it's their loss,” he said in a less hyperbolic voice. “Oh, and that reminds me, add me to your schedule. There's a couple of pieces I'd like to commission from you.”

“What? Me? Really?” Snotlout sputtered.

“Yes, and I've already designed a new display case I'm going to build for in you in exchange. It's got those glueless, nailless snap-joints in it you like so much.”

“How'd you ever figure those out?”

“Wasn't me. It was small group of people I ran into a long, long time ago called the Niponese. They didn't have any metal to spare to make nails and they thought glue was a waste. Their joinery... half of what I saw still baffles me,” Jack told Snotlout the absolute truth that included an Earth name.

“Well, if you're willing to trade a full-sized case, you must have something pretty big in mind, ‘cause that's an expensive barter.”

“Not big, but exacting. Lots of detail work,” the Guardian said in cryptic manner. “But it will have to wait for a while ‘til we get some other things settled. Once you see the design, you'll understand.”

“Now I'm curious,” Snotlout mumbled and grinned.

Instead of taking the bait, Jack yelled: “Farb!”

Something crashed to the floor on the forge side of the shop. Fifteen seconds later a flustered Fartbritches emerged. He scowled at Jack.

“We need to give Snotlout a crash course on smithing and sharpening. He's going to help out in case we do get attacked,” Jack told the journeyman smith.

“Oh, yeah, that!” Fartbritches exclaimed as he got reminded about the reason for the alarm.

“And I could use a brush up as well. Come on, Snotlout, let's see what other hidden mastery you've got tucked away.”

“Right,” the man droned, but he followed the Earthling to the other side of the shop.

Not long after Jack coaxed Fartbritches into instructing he and Snotlout, Hiccup lifted an arm in warning. On the horizon he spotted the fleet under full sail and making impressive headway. Even from a distance he could tell the ships rode in a defensive configuration. The beach landers lay in the center with the frigates on the side and rear while the dreadnought rode in front. Past experience told Hiccup the marauders housed dragons in shallow-draft but wide-hulled caravels designed for beach landings. He used the hand signals to relay his suspicions. The other flight leaders responded, and most agreed with him. Astrid suggested a dual flank attack to take out the frigates, and Hiccup agreed. The order got sent along the wings, and they broke into two large squadrons.

“They should see us by now,” Hiccup warned Toothless.

When they drew within closer visual range, the activity on the ship decks became noticeable. Sailors manned the ballista on the dreadnought and frigates, and handlers could be seen leading dragons up from below decks. Hiccup finally got to see the sigil on the sails, and it did not bode well for the Berkians. A lone broken shockjaw skull shot through with a spear, all painted in red and yellow, lay splayed on a dark burgundy background. The sight made Hiccup shudder.

“Knusehode!” He yelled to those closest to him. “Knusehode!”

The call went up and down the lines and got transmitted to the other wings. No deal or peace would be reached with the marauding band that prided itself on smashing open the skulls of every living thing they encountered. Even if the Knusehode did not intend on attacking Berk, it behooved the Berkians to lay waste to the fleet with all due haste. The Knusehode would attack without pause once the clan spotted the dragons in the sky. Hiccup raised his arm to call the riders to attention. He then opened his fist into a flat hand, turned it sideways, and made a slashing motion toward the ships. He gave the order to begin the assault. He learned from Drago Bludvist that some Vikings would never listen to reason.

It appeared they came upon the Knusehode before they could prepare for a fight. Astrid split her group into two units, and Hiccup followed suit. The stokers and strikers would pepper the ships from above while the boulder, sharp, and tidal dragons would drop low to begin the damage runs. It would fall to the strikers to protect the lower forces by attracting as much attention as they could. The teams went into operation as they dove toward the enemy. Hiccup felt his nerves begin to twang, but then the odd calm that came with battle settled throughout his system. He would let his instincts, both natural and trained, work without interference. He trusted the other leaders and felt confident in the squads of dragons and riders. The Berkian air assault commenced.

Bolts flew through the air, but long after the Berk dragons sighted the ballistae. The Knusehode could be heard yelling orders. Gustav led a group that harried the internal ships and kept most of the marauding dragons from taking flight while some took shots at the frigates. Rancid's forces that included a good number of stokers set one frigate ablaze and worked on another. Astrid matched his efforts by setting two on fire and directed her strikers to harry the outer most frigates. Hiccup prayed they could spare the dragons if at all possible. After that, he wheeled his airborne troops around to take on the dreadnought. They banked and dove. The terrifying squeal of a night fury in attack mode sounded around them.

The battle lasted for over an hour. The warning Jack provided proved the key element in taking the Knusehode by surprise. It seemed the marauders prepared for a stealth ground assault and never planned on an aerial barrage in advance of their landing. By the time the Berkians broke off the attack, all but one of the ships burned in the water. Two frigates and three beach landers sank, and several more listed at dangerous angles. The dreadnought looked like a Viking funeral pyre. Knusehode abandoned ships, and the dotted the water. They would never make it to the shores of Berk unless their corpses floated there. The Berkians won lopsided victory by any standard.

It did not come without cost, however. Hiccup lamented the loss of three dragons and two riders. Both Gustav and Rancid looked crestfallen at the empty spots in their ranks. Astrid, even from a distance, scowled in a manner that told Hiccup she felt the deaths on a keen, personal level. It pained him to think he needed to lead his friends and dragons into such dangerous circumstances, but allowing the Knusehode to arrive at Berk would be akin to inviting suicide. Hence, the weary defenders of Berk flew home and left the wreckage of the marauding forces burning and many of the survivors floating in the sea. The wild ocean-faring dragons would feast well in that vicinity if the Knusehode did not act fast and rescue their comrades. Against all probability, Hiccup hoped the majority could be saved.

The flight home did not proceed in a rush. Dragons tired from battle, riders weary and heartsick, did not need to push their limits. They would come to Berk as victors, but with terrible news for some. During the flight, Hiccup could not fail but to note the threat in space tormenting Jack inadvertently saved them from a homegrown threat. He understood why the Guardian decided to go for a fly that morning, and by what fortunes he chose to travel in the right direction could not be calculated. Time and again Hiccup wondered if the unseen powerful beings of Halla keep a watchful eye out for the hidden Guardian. As he flew along, he wound up creating more questions than answers in his head.

“They really didn't stand a chance,” Hiccup soberly recounted at a hastily convened meal with those who knew the truth about the Earthling. “Jack's warning... they didn't expect us to fly patrols that far out, and they're right. We need to be more vigilant.”

“Meatlug is broken up. She knew Fireface since he broke shell, and Skimpy...” Fishlegs quietly said in a trembling voice and stopped when he got to the name of the late dragon rider.

The loss of a gronckle and rider struck the stout Viking extremely hard. Groanhilde leaned against her husband. No one remarked about the tears the crept down the wide, round face of the man wearing the winged helmet. Jack sat in silence, listening to Etuchaand, and somehow feeling vindicated against the menacing presence in his head. Like Hiccup, he, too, noted the irony that Etuchaand accidentally led to the discovery of the Knusehode attack. Regardless, it did not remove the pain of losing their comrades and dragons.

“If they got here, it would've been worse. We weren't really ready for an invasion. We're gotten complacent recently, and we can't afford that... especially now,” Hiccup stated as though picking up on Jack's thoughts.

“If we weren't ready for the Knusehode, what do we do about this... this... thing coming here and after those two?” Groanhilde asked, still not quite used to the knowledge about Jack and Isemaler.

“The Guardians on Earth didn't have much advice for us. I read the Tome of Peril...”

“The what?” Fishlegs grimly blurted.

“It's a book on loan from... I guess you'd call him a magician, and it contains information on all the beings and creatures we need to fight against... on Earth... to protect the children,” Jack tried to explain without going into too much detail. “I hate reading from that book ‘cause it feels like what I'm reading about is watching me, sort of studying me.”

“But you did read about Etuchaand?” Hiccup asked, and he well remembered the one time he got a peek at the fabled tome. It made him shiver.

“My maker, The Man in the Moon and Etuchaand are like twins... but not really. The came into existence around the same time and kind of from the same source. It's why their powers are so similar. Etuchaand came first, and then Father Moon. For a long time they did horrendous things to the Earth until more intelligent creatures evolved. Father Moon didn't like tormenting beings that could think and feel.”

All eyes focused on Jack. He paused in his narrative because knowing his maker at one time led a cruel and perhaps evil existence continued to disturb him. He sighed and stared at the table. Facing his friends and loved ones on Halla while relating the grim facts felt like humiliation.

“Almost three hundred million years ago, The Man in the Moon and Etuchaand got into an argument about what they did. Father Moon stopped using his powers to torture living things... this was a long, long, long time after they made the staff Isemaler uses...”

“This staff was used to do bad things,” Isemaler said from where he floated in a corner. He sounded disappointed to the core of his being.

“On Earth, but not here,” Jack both confirmed and re-contextualized the idea. “It's only ever been used to protect and entertain children on Halla, Isemaler. It's not corrupted, and it won't corrupt you.”

“Are you sure?” Groanhilde inquired and the intent underlying her statement drew a hot glare from Hiccup.

“Yes. I used it for over three hundred years and never once felt as if it would lead me to do anything... vile. It's not a power source. It's not alive,” he paused and glanced at Hiccup who stopped glaring at Groanhilde and shrugged. “It... enhances who we are inside and the powers we can use.”

“And that's why Etuchaand wants: it... he... whatever it is can use it make... itself stronger,” Fishlegs summarized.

Jack nodded.

“But how does this knowledge help us defend against it? It's beyond ancient and who knows how powerful,” Valka asked and postulated.

The gathering around the table looked to Hiccup and Jack. Hiccup and Jack looked at each other. Neither wanted to say what they already discussed and determined the day before: the knowledge did not help them other that understanding why the being wanted the staff. Moreover, Jack did not want to confess his friends on Earth offered no suggestions since it ranged far outside their experiences. The fact Sandy remained stumped over what they should do sent a chill and fright into Jack. Even the hado'ih seemed at a loss. He needed to buck up his courage and tell the truth.

“It... ah, doesn't really help us,” Jack said and kept his eyes glued to the table. He did not want to see the disappointment in his friends' eyes.

“The truth is there's only one... being who knows anything about Etuchaand, and he doesn't talk to anyone very much,” Hiccup instantly added. “In all the time Jack's been alive, he's only talked to his Father Moon once. Once! If anyone should be helping out, it's him... and I don't think he's going to do anything!”

“Hiccup, don't be angry. The Man in the Moon spends most of his time and energy keeping what's physically left of Etuchaand confined to the moon and facing away from my home planet. I can't begin to contemplate what it takes to do that,” the Guardian countered.

“So what you're both saying is we're on our own?” Groanhilde capped the moment.

Hiccup and Jack both nodded.

“Then that's it? There's nothing we can do when this thing gets here? We're just all gonna die once it kills Isemaler and takes the staff?” Fishlegs all but quailed.

“Hold on, Fishlegs,” Jack replied in a calm voice. “How long do you think we have ‘til Etuchaand does arrive.”

“Five, maybe six weeks at best based on what Isemaler told me about the volume of the voice. We'll know Etuchaand is here when the voice either permanently knocks out Isemaler... or kills him,” the smartest of the group said in a near panic.

Isemaler groaned from his position.

“Isemaler, have you talked to Noro the Skydancer about this?” Hiccup asked the spirit.

“She says whether we live or die depends on us. She will keep the planet whole, but... whatever lives on it fends for itself,” Isemaler reported in a small voice.

The five living people cast uncertain gazes at one another. Hiccup never realized how much hope he placed in Jack coming back to Halla with an answer from his compatriots on Earth. To hear the collective intelligence of those extraordinary people failed to yield even a single idea or suggestion came as shock. The news Noro could not, or perhaps would not, lend aid also depressed him. Fear and frustration began to build.

“If the gods won't help, then we're done,” Hiccup said as the dark emotions swirled in him.

“No!” Jack half-yelled and slapped the table with the palms of his hands.

Everyone in the room jumped.

“I refuse to believe we're helpless and we just accept doom,” he growled. “I'm not saying it was entirely planned, but The Man in the Moon sent Etuchaand to this universe for a reason. When I got here I was almost powerless. If this damn thing is so powerful why does it need the staff? Huh? Etuchaand needs it for more reasons than Isemaler does, and I'm willing to bet IceSpike on that.”

“You are betting her on that?” Isemaler said from the corner.

“Do you think your maker sent you here on purpose?” Valka inquired as she stared at Jack.

“No. I think there's a good chance the blue trolls are connected to Etuchaand... one of it's twisted experiments so long ago even the trolls don't remember where they came from. I fell through a tear between our dimensions. Once I got here... once I got enough power to start acting on my own, I think Etuchaand sensed the presence of the staff it helped create. I think it sees the staff as its way out and back to my dimension,” Jack said as his mind worked overtime to piece as much together as he could to stem the growing depression in the room.

Hiccup frowned. Valka appeared perplexed. Groanhilde seemed angry. Isemaler looked in pain. Fishlegs stared at Jack. Jack returned the gaze.

“Jack,” the brilliant, rotund Viking slowly said the name. “If you could unlock your Guardian side and you got the staff back, is it possible you might be equal to... maybe even more powerful than Etuchaand?”

The Earthling thought about it for a few moments, began to shake his head, and replied: “No, Fishlegs, probably not. This isn't my native universe. The energies don't feel quite right to me and I have a hard time reaching full strength. I wouldn't be equal to Etuchaand by a long shot. But I think there might be one who is.”

With that, he turned and glanced at the floating figure of Isemaler. One by one the other's also faced the Hallan Spirit of Winter Joy. Isemaler glanced from person to person. Even though he squinted due to the voice in his head, and Jack sometimes wore the same expression, he managed to look startled. After a few more seconds, he looked ready to run away.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he quickly rambled. “It's talking inside my head from gods' know where. I can't do that. Trust me: I've tried with Jack and Thursar, and neither of them ever heard me. I use this staff every day... every day and it doesn't make me feel that powerful!”

“Jack, he might be right,” Hiccup rejoined in a somber tone.

“I don't know,” the Guardian quietly responded, and the assembled stared at him. “I came here with my body. Although it's changed, that's still the body of Grimtooth Skovaks. It stands to reason that makes a big difference. I mean, why would Father Moon keep Etuchaand's body trapped like that? I think being without it's original form costs Etuchaand quite a bit. It's more like a mind floating around.”

Fishlegs suddenly sat up. He looked astonished. After blinking his eyes several times, he asked: “If Etuchaand doesn't have a body, how could he... it take the staff? What if it needs something else in order to get the staff.”

“Like what?” Groanhilde asked first.

“Like the only body from its universe to be found anywhere in this one.”

Jack's mouth fell open.

“Jack, are you sure the Sickle of Elada is the staff?” Hiccup cautiously inquired.

“I used to be,” Jack confessed. Then he quickly shook his head. “No, no. The staff is the Sickle.”

“Um, Jack, I think I thought of something else,” Isemaler rumbled from his corner. “This thing keeps saying it's going to kill the child of Elada, but... well, I'm not the child of Elada. I'm the child of Noro.”

The Guardian, the child of The Man in the Moon, felt his face sag, and then he blurted: “Oh, pockers!”

This time Valka did not reprimand him for swearing.


	8. Chapter 8

By the time Jack could no longer hear the voice of Etuchaand in his head, a whole new world of worry opened before him. Isemaler's observation regarding the real identity of the child of Elada changed everything. It became coupled with Fishlegs conjecture on what the malevolent creature would need to take the staff and use it. Etuchaand did not possess a physical entity in the Hallan universe, and Jack did. Etuchaand did not possess a power amplifier in Hallan universe, and Isemaler did. In order to get the latter, it needed the former. By the end of the meeting Jack managed to instill a morose hope in the others that Etuchaand might only kill him, take the staff, and then depart for its native universe to wage war on The Man in the Moon. Hiccup got angry and said he did not find that very reassuring. The others chimed in with the same sentiment.

Distance from his latest journey to Earth stopped the voice, but it also meant he drew closer to the next trans-dimensional shift. It meant Etuchaand drew closer to Halla as well. Despite the notion the world might be saved by the forfeiture of Jack's life, no one the group seemed particularly predisposed to accepting it as the solution. A few days later Fishlegs theorized Etuchaand might destroy Halla simply to test the powers at his disposal. It made Jack feel as if he returned to square one while carrying an elephant on his shoulders. He began to spend more and more time contemplating what seemed destined to arrive in the upcoming weeks and less time actually talking to people.

“Worrying only makes for more suffering, Jack,” Valka said to him during a rare visit the workshop. She caught him standing and staring blankly at a piece wood that needed planing.

“If I knew it was just me I wouldn't be worried,” he quietly replied. “There's no guarantee it won't involve you and the rest of the world.”

“True, true, but worrying means you're not using your thinking time to the best effect.”

“Do you have to be so wise, Valka?”

“With Gobber gone and your Nick far away, someone needs to fill those shoes,” the woman said and her eyes twinkled.

Valka's grubby coveralls smelled of a variety of dragon scents, and it somehow made her presence more comforting. The statement caused a lump to rise in the Earthling's throat and rendered him momentarily speechless. To center his thinking Jack shaved a few more thin layers from the plank and checked the surface. It looked smooth, but his fingers detected irregularities. He took another swipe with the planer and watched the curls of wood come tumbling out.

“How's our friend?” Valka asked when at length he did not respond.

“Barely flight worthy,” Jack answered the question as he stared at the wood. “He keeps trying to do his duty, but I know the sound is painful and distracting him. I don't know how much longer he can go on.”

“He's a brave one, that's for certain.”

“I don't know how he does it to be honest.”

“Do you think Hiccup might have a different take on him now?” The senior dragon woman inquired of her son, and it proved telling.

The sound of Fartbritches and Mouldy arguing over the current temperature of the forge drifted into the woodshop. Hiccup got called down to the docks to examine a malfunctioning piece of the collapsible ramp. People feared it might give way underfoot, and it required the attention of the senior smith. Jack suspected Valka used the opportunity.

“I know he's feeling a lot of guilt about what he did regarding the house. I know he begged Noro to remove the restriction,” Jack answered.

“Did she?”

“Hard to tell. I think so. Hiccup keeps mumbling about how she said not to entirely forsake Is... Grimtooth, and that he might come in handy one day.”

“Do you think she meant this?”

“No. I think this caught her by surprise,” Jack speculated. “She probably meant in the greater sense of what Grimtooth does. It's a funny notion, and Hiccup doesn't have much of a sense of humor left. Notice that?”

“There's a lot of reasons for it, Jack,” Valka softly reminded him.

“And I know I'm one of them...”

“Maybe once a long time ago, but you've brought a lot of joy into his life. Never doubt that. He loves you, Jack... and I know you love him. Everyone knows.”

The Guardian nodded his head. He could not deny the truth of her statements. It still pained him that Hiccup remained absent from the house. Yet he could not deny they needed to discuss the current crisis before all other concerns, and time might be running out.

“Can I tell you something I learned about you over the years?” The woman requested.

He shrugged and nodded at the same time.

“I've learned to never count you out,” Valka began in a quiet voice. “You told us how you suffered hundreds of years of isolation and loneliness, but still managed to show children how to enjoy themselves. I remember how you threw all caution to the wind to come and find Hiccup when Berk tore itself apart. Then when I thought your dead body was in a cave on the other side of the island, I found you lying next to my son looking as healthy and mortal as him. When Hiccup told me what he endured on your world and what you did to free him, I began to see where your greatest strength lies and why you're the Spirit of Fun.”

When she paused, Jack looked at her through a squint as he tried to piece together her logic.

“You're like Hiccup in this regard, Jack: you are at your very best when you just... wing it. You take what is given to you and you make things happen,” she said and smiled. “I watched over the years as you two spun grand ideas out of nothing and made them work. I've heard people say it's not over ‘til it's over, and that's where you and Hiccup find your endless supply of life. What did Gobber say about calling you a ghost boy?”

“Died twice and came back each time,” Jack recalled the memory and it made his chest ache.

“And that's why I'm not giving up hope!”

Jack set down the plane and faced Valka. He saw no fear or sadness in her face. He did see the lines of care worn into her features over time, yet it enhanced her beauty. A palpable strength seeped from her. Without asking, Jack walked up to her, wrapped his arms around her lean frame, and tightly hugged the woman. He felt her arms enfold him, and he bathed in Valka's calm assuredness. Like a magic tonic he could feel the restorative power. Jack thought of Jamie Bennett because that man, when a child, believed when everyone else seemed to lose hope in the face of Pitch Black's assault. The Spirit of Fun never realized how much he needed one person on Halla to believe in him at that moment.

“The brace isn't locking, Fishlegs,” Hiccup yelled from a lower section of the ramp, “and it looks like more than one is failing. The joints might be bent.”

“It is safe to stand on right now?” Fishlegs called down in return.

“For you, no.”

People stood and watched them try to solve the puzzle of the collapsible docks that suddenly decided to collapse on their own. Toothless and Meatlug guarded the ends of the ramp where small barricades kept people from using the broken section. Toothless let his head dangle over the edge and watched his rider. Hiccup tried to remember the last time either he or the journeyman smiths did maintenance on the massively long device. Give the hundreds of people, if not thousands, who used the ramps in a given month and the weight it bore as goods and cargo moved on and off the main island, the condition did not seem all that surprising.

“We're going to make new braces and install them,” the young mastersmith rejoined.

“You don't have any spares?” The sturdy Viking asked.

“Ah, the waterwheel!”

Even from twenty feet below Hiccup could see Fishlegs cheeks turn red.

“Alright, lower the dock and leave the barricades up. I'll head back to the forge and get to work on replacements and spares,” Hiccup told his friend. “Then I'm sending out Farb and Mouldy to check every last brace... and really all parts of the docks.”

“Right,” Fishlegs shouted.

Half a minute later two dragons and Viking drifted through the sky to join Hiccup. Fishlegs dismounted once they landed. He then spent a minute lavishing affection and praise on the lumpy dragon. Hiccup simply slapped Toothless' neck in a companionable manner. Toothless gently bumped him with a shoulder. A flush faced Fishlegs joined them when he got finished, and Meatlug lay contentedly on dock.

“We should probably have this done by the end of the day,” Fishlegs suggested.

“I'm thinking within two or three hours,” Hiccup amended. “I'll get Farb and Mouldy on it right away. I can whip up some new braces in no time.”

Fishlegs nodded, but then he looked around in a conspiratorial manner and said: “Can I ask you something?”

“No one is around us Fishlegs, so you can ask about Jack or Isemaler.”

“Do you think Jack really doesn't have enough... power to fight Aletha?” The rotund Viking inquired.

Unlike most, Fishlegs preferred to call the entity by it's proper name.

“I trust he can evaluate his own abilities,” Hiccup stated in a flat voice since he did not like thinking about the upcoming prospects. He picked at his work overalls. The heavy canvas clothing helped reduce getting burned and it did not rapidly start on fire. Unfortunately, it became unbearably hot since it did not breathe or allow a cooling breeze to penetrate.

“And Isemaler?” Fishlegs continued down the same logical path.

“I... I think it's like the difference between when an adult and a child are fishing. They both know how to do it, but one has a lot more experience. If this was happening on Earth, I think Jack might have a shot at stopping Etuchaand, even defeating it. Isemaler might have the energy to do it, but he doesn't have the same level of experience as Jack,” the skinnier of the two relayed.

Fishlegs huffed and sounded angry.

“What?” Hiccup prodded him.

“We just can let him get killed... can we?”

“No, we can't!”

People looked at them from a distance at Hiccup's exclamation.

“But how do we stop it? We're not like what they are. We can't control the same forces they can,” he angrily continued but at a lower volume. “We're not gods, Fishlegs!”

“But neither are they,” his friend countered.

Hiccup threw him a sidelong glance.

“Don't forget: Jack got killed here once. If he can die, than so can this thing coming at us. There has got to be a way!”

“Oh, so Jack's three hundred odd years is going to stand up to the billions of years that thing has been around? Remember the difference in fishing?” The leaner of the two countered.

The two feigned making a detailed inspection for a half a minute.

“But it doesn't have a body, and that seems to be important. Why, I don't know, but... it's a factor,” Fishlegs said and showed uncharacteristic optimism. “And the dragons are a factor. If what Jack and Isemaler said is right, Noro made the dragons to challenge and pester the gods. If we could combine Isemaler with the dragons, wouldn't it give us an edge?”

“Sure, if you could stop Etuchaand from turning Isemaler's mind into mashed pulp,” Hiccup reminded the man of what currently afflicted the Spirit of Winter Joy.

Fishlegs frowned, but Hiccup detected a subtle nuance in the expression. It bore a closer resemblance to his friend's thinking face than it did to that of anger or frustration. The leaner of the two Viking kept his tongue in check and waited.

“How did Aletha know it needed to disable Isemaler. It already said it's going to kill the child of Elada, and that's Jack, but... I don't understand why it focused on Isemaler first,” Fishlegs spoke in his manner of thinking aloud.

“The Sickle of Elada,” Hiccup replied.

“The Sickle of Elada... the Sickle... it recognized Isemaler controls the staff.”

“And your point?”

“Something is off here, Hiccup. I can feel it, but I can't quite put it together. The connections between Jack, Isemaler, the staff, and Aletha... how? How are they connected. Why did it go after Isemaler first? It can't be just the staff....”

“Fishlegs?” Hiccup spoke the name as a prompt.

“We're missing something. I know it,” Fishlegs said and his voice dropped to a whisper as he thought.

Hiccup waited. The people on the docks watched them, but it seemed logical to assume the two inventive Vikings discussed the ramp problem. After a minute of silence, Hiccup acted.

“Say what you're thinking, Fishlegs.”

“Aletha needs the staff to amplify it's power, but Isemaler controls the staff. It also needs a body so it can get the staff... and something to help it get back to Jack's universe, so it needs Jack's body. It can't kill Isemaler unless it has powers like the spokelsedrake, but that doesn't seem likely since it's coming here from somewhere else,” the man did as asked.

“So it uses Jack's body to kill Isemaler...”

“It can't. Jack's in a mortal form,” Fishlegs said in a speculative fashion.

“But his Guardian self is locked somewhere deep down inside,” Hiccup reminded his friend.

Fishlegs stared at Hiccup, but he looked at a point far, far away. The surf broke against the breaker rocks that formed the shallows of Berk's docking bay. Seagulls cried in the air, but as a result of being chased by terrible terrors. Everything around them, even the people, appeared completely normal.

“Okay, but doesn't Jack always say Isemaler is a lot stronger than he is ‘cause he's not from Halla?” Fishlegs rhetorically asked.

“And Isemaler has the staff,” Hiccup added.

“And if Aletha can debilitate Isemaler, then it can take Jack's body and use it get rid of Isemaler... and take the staff. It needs to strike at Isemaler first.”

“For the love of Loki, we already know Etuchaand is attacking Isemaler...”

“How? From where?” Fishlegs asked.

Hiccup blinked as his mind drew a blank.

“We only assumed Aletha was out in space, Hiccup.”

“Are you saying it's already here?”

“Maybe it spent the last ten years getting here... hiding here, and figuring out how to take the staff. Maybe it only recently came up with a plan,” Fishlegs theorized.

“Sometimes I really hate your brain!” Hiccup growled at him.

Minutes later the two Vikings flew away from the docks at a fast clip. Hiccup felt his sense of panic rising as he thrashed over the new possible wrinkles of Fishlegs' conjecture. It started to make more and more sense as the squat form of the forge and woodshop came into view. The smith part of Hiccup's brain noted a certain lack of smoke coming from the chimney. It seemed fortuitous Meatlug arrived to help reignite the fires. However, the other thoughts kept intruding on the mundane mortal concerns.

“Jack... Mom,” Hiccup said in surprise when he and Fishlegs burst through the woodshop entry.

Son, Fishlegs,” Valka said in her measured way that she understood a sense of urgency surrounded the two men.

Hiccup turned to Jack and said in a hoarse whisper: “What if Etuchaand is already here? What if it's been attacking Isemaler all along getting ready to strike at you?”

“What do you mean?” Jack inquired.

“Not yet, and hold on,” the smith said and wheeled about to face the forge. “Farb! Mouldy! Here! Now!”

A loud clang emerged form one of the forge's recesses, and the two men quickly made an appearance. Hiccup outlined what needed to be done at the docks, and he put the two in charge. He also told them where to find the specifications for new braces and ordered one of them to make those while the other went and prepared the section of broken dock for repairs. Fartbritches and Mouldy looked stunned at the completeness of the instructions and Hiccup's fierce delivery.

“If you mess this up, I swear I'll get Toothless to weld the two of you together. Got it?”

While they both probably knew Hiccup would never use his dragon to harm them, it added weight to the seriousness of his demand. Each man nodded, then argued for fifteen seconds over who would do what, and Fartbritches shot out of the smithy as if propelled by a dragon. Hiccup approved since Mouldy worked better with more intricate items.

“Head to the house,” he told the others. “Fishlegs, get Groanhilde. She's already in this waist deep, and she has the same annoying habit you do of asking the best questions at the worst times. Can you get Meatlug to re-ignite the forge before you leave.”

“Certainly,” Fishlegs agreed, and he started talking to his dragon.

“Mom, if you've got a few minutes to spare, I'd like you to be in on this as well,” Hiccup requested. “I think Fishlegs unlocked something we need to discuss and figure out right now!”

“Of course, Hiccup,” Valka readily agreed.

Then the Viking turned to the Earthling and said: “Jack, I think the battle already started, but we didn't realize it.”

Jack frowned.

Ten minutes later the quintet gathered around the table in the Haddock house. They all knew Isemaler secreted himself under the largest waterfall he could find. For a person who traveled the world throughout the year, no one needed to doubt the spirit did, indeed, find the largest. Hiccup let Fishlegs outline the hypothesis that Etuchaand, who he routinely called Aletha, more than likely came to Halla years before when Jack arrived with the staff. Since then, Hiccup helped explain, the being probably spent a good deal of time studying both Jack and Isemaler. In the end, it seemed reasonable to believe Etuchaand figured it needed to neutralize Isemaler first before it launched an attack against Jack since of all the powerful invisible entities only Isemaler could and would defend Jack. Hiccup summarized by exposing his sense of guilt that he unwittingly helped Etuchaand by banishing Isemaler from the house and, thus, left both Jack and Isemaler totally vulnerable.

“That's all well and good you might've guessed this thing's plan, but how does that help?” Groanhilde asked the pertinent question.

Silence lingered for a few moment until Jack said: “It tells us what we need to defend. We need to protect Isemaler.”

“Fine. Now, how do we do that?” Fishlegs' wife continued her barrage.

Four faces glanced at one another. As Hiccup stated, Groanhilde often asked the right question at the worst time. He could not think of a single way they could protect Isemaler. Slowly, eyes began to focus on Jack as the silence persisted. Jack wracked his brain. Etuchaand possessed age and experience on him, as well as millions of years being trapped in the Hallan universe. Given the nature of the creature, it seemed obvious it harbored a tremendous intelligence as well. Jack did not like to say that out loud at all. As he compared himself to the ancient being, he thought of one similarity.

“I think Etuchaand would have the same difficulty using the energies of this dimension as I did. We're not native to it. It's not part of who we are,” Jack mused aloud.

“How weak would that make him?” Fishlegs asked before anyone else could open their mouths.

“I got power lent to me from Lord of Winter and Noro the Skydancer. Unless Etuchaand discovered a way to steal energy, I would venture to say it must be somewhat weaker by now.”

“Why didn't it die? Before your maker showed up and renewed you, weren't you supposed to... pass away after forty or fifty years of being here?” Valka inquired and raised another excellent point.

“Consider the scale,” Jack said while he thought it through. “If... and this assumes the spokelsedrake never got to me, if I managed to live forty years here on Halla without any renewal, that would be something between ten to fifteen percent of my life span. Etuchaand is billions of years old so he would have hundreds of millions of years to live before he started to fade and die. There's the scale.”

“How much power does he have then?” Hiccup took a turn asking a question.

Jack shrugged and said: “Hard to say. We know he's got enough to make himself heard in Isemaler's and my mind.”

“But you only hear it for a few days when you get back from Earth,” Fishlegs said.

“Wouldn't that indicate there's some sort of difference between... whatever Isemaler is and what Jack is?” Valka chipped in.

Jack and Fishlegs both nodded.

“Then that would mean some part of you stays... a Guardian for a little while before you fully revert to being human again,” the woman deftly concluded.

“Well, that would make sense, Mom: we've always known what Jack really is continues to exist somewhere inside of him.”

“But something is covering it up,” Jack said with a wicked grin on his face. “I think the flesh is the answer.”

“To what?” Groanhilde grunted.

“To protecting Isemaler...”

“D'uh! Why didn't I think of that? Of course that's the answer,” Fishlegs interjected and berated himself. “You transform, Jack, and it takes longer to return to being human than it does to turn into your other form. If that's why you can hear Etuchaand, then all we have to do is surround Isemaler with people!”

Jack smiled at his barrel-shaped friend.

“A literal human shield,” Hiccup summarized.

“Exactly,” Jack said. Then he studied Hiccup for a second before inquiring: “Do you know if Noro lifted the ward from the house that stops Isemaler from entering?”

“Even if she didn't we still have a way of letting him in. If you and me both agree he can come in, then he can enter,” Hiccup reminded the Earthling. “Jack... could that be the real reason why Isemaler liked to come here so often? It blocked Etuchaand's voice?”

“I don't know. He never told me about hearing the voice until it wouldn't go away...”

“When I started chasing him out.”

“Don't blame yourself for any of this Hiccup,” Jack quickly inserted. “Neither of us knew if that's what was really happening. You know he didn't like appearing weak in front of me.”

“Why?” Groanhilde butted in.

“I was the original Isemaler and I set the tone... the methods and precedent. Sometimes he felt inferior to me because he forgot how long it took me to learn how to control the powers. He wanted to be able to perform just as I did right from the start...”

“Like watching a child imitate a father or mother when learning to fish,” Fishlegs said in a knowing fashion.

“How astute of you of you, Fishlegs,” Hiccup replied in very sarcastic manner.

“Okay, so that was your analogy. Pardon me!”

Groanhilde snorted with a laugh and elbowed her husband.

“But that's not really a solution,” Valka quietly said. “We can't surround Isemaler with people all day and all night. We'd have to tell the entire village what's going on to do that. Plus, doesn't Isemaler have a job to do?”

“You're as bad a Groanhilde,” her son quipped.

“Hey. I heard that,” Groanhilde rounded on Hiccup.

“It's an excellent point, Valka,” Jack conceded. “It's a short-term solution at best, but... it might be enough to save him until I go back and confer with the other Guardians. I'll even appeal to Father Moon.”

“They haven't come up with anything so far,” Fishlegs rumbled and stared into his empty cup.

“First,” the Guardian in residence tersely said the word, “we're out of wine and ale. Second, the Guardians have a full-time job protecting the children of an entire planet from numerous threats, Fishlegs. They can't sit around and debate our problems like we're doing!”

“Sorry,” the man muttered.

“Accepted, but don't forget I get to take everything we discuss and present it to them. It shaves a lot of time off the process... and maybe, just maybe, it will spark an idea in one of their heads. There's the value in how we spend our time here,” Jack stated in friendlier voice, and he glanced at Valka during the last sentence.

She grinned at him.

“Alright, so we're buying time by protecting Isemaler. That's good, but how do we find him?” Groanhilde displayed her ever-practical manner of thinking. “The world isn't small, you know.”

Silence descended once again on the group as they put their mind to the newest of a host of problems. Isemaler could be just about anywhere on the planet. He often flew at outrageous speeds without any real need or provocation; hence, a habit Jack fully understood. They did not have the time to search with dragons since it would take them endless weeks to complete the task. One by one the people around the table started to stare at the lone Earthling.

“Why do you always look at me when you can't come up with something?” He complained.

“Because you're good at the last minute ideas,” Valka said in a certain knowing fashion.

Jack rolled his eyes.

“Why don't you ask Lord of Winter or the Thunder Queen?” Hiccup suggested.

“They either can't or won't speak to me, and I've never talked to Blikse'fey,” Jack countered.

“They don't have to answer you, they just have to convey a message to Isemaler,” Fishlegs refined the suggestion.

“What is the Thunder Queen?” Groanhilde quietly inquired.

“Sort of Lord of Winter's summer counterpart. A different part of the world got to name her before we came up with Thor,” Valka answered in a whisper.

“Oh... who's Lord of Winter?”

Groanhilde's second question did not receive a reply as Jack began to nod his head. Options did not readily present themselves, and the current proposal stood as good a chance of success as any other. Jack got to his feet while everyone watched him. He placed a hand at the lower edge of his extended rib cage right where his heart rested. It reminded him afresh that Halla differed from Earth.

“Lord of Winter, Queen of Storms,” he said aloud while concentrating on the feeling he used to get when speaking with Thursar H'rim. “We think Isemaler is in terrible danger, and we believe we have a means to protect him. We beg you, please, send word to him to return to the home of Jack Frost. We gladly welcome him.”

He nudged Hiccup.

“Oh, right,” Hiccup said and scrambled to his feet. “I welcome him as well. Our home is open to Isemaler. Please, find him and send him to us.”

The room became incredibly silent as the group waited for some sort of response. Seconds ticked by and they heard nothing. Hiccup and Jack sank back into their seats, each straining their ears. A minute passed. Those that with mugs containing the last of the ale in the house poured that night finished it. Not a rumble could be heard.

“Well, it was worth a shot,” Hiccup said with dejection in his voice.

“Just because they didn't answer doesn't mean they won't do it,” Fishlegs opined with another helping of unexpected optimism.

“True,” Jack mused.

“Let's say for the sake of argument these... gods or whatever they are heard us, what do we do if Isemaler comes back?” Groanhilde 

The quintet got into a lively discussion of how best to protect Isemaler when he returned and not if. Fishlegs immediately suggested an experimental approach that grew increasingly complex as he thought of a seeming endless list of variables to test. He adjusted the methodology when others brought up what they considered relevant exceptions. Hiccup reminded the group they could only use the five bodies sitting around the table, and that dampened the mood a bit. Jack recommended simply testing how many people it would take being near or very close to Isemaler to deaden Etuchaand's voice. After more debate on the merits of Jack's simplified version, they ultimately agreed he provided the only workable method.

Since the hour bordered on becoming late, Jack began to usher people out the door. It surprised him that even Valka seemed hesitant to depart. However, he remained adamant and began to physically guide Fishlegs and Groanhilde away from the table. Valka followed in their wake. She gave her son a kiss goodnight and a lengthy hug to Jack. When the three safely walked away from the porch onto the paths leading to their homes, he closed the door. Hiccup stood by dining table looking a bit uncomfortable.

“I... ah, didn't know if I needed to be here in order for Isemaler to make it into the house,” Hiccup explained his presence.

“Interesting point, and I have no idea,” Jack admitted.

The two looked at one another. Green eyes met brown. A torrent of unspoken questions flowed between them.

“Stay,” Jack quietly invited him. “Please.”

“I don't want to make you feel awkward.”

“Hiccup, what feels awkward is not having you in bed next to me like I have for the last ten years.”

Hiccup shifted on his feet.

“Yes, we have a lot to talk about... years worth of issues probably, but... please, stay,” the Guardian responded to the motions that betrayed the Viking's confusion. “I'm not pretending this current... crisis is going to fix whatever got broke between us, but... I really miss you. I sleep better when you're here.”

“Who's asking me this: Jack the mortal or the Guardian?”

Jack stared at the man trying to read his face. He heard the undertones in the question. He wanted to get angry at first, but stemmed it. The question made perfect sense.

“Before I answer that,” Jack replied in a neutral manner, “I want to tell you one thing first. You may not realize it, but Guardians get scared, too, and I mean really scared. Even though we learn to control it, it doesn't make it go away. Jack the mortal and Jack the Guardian get frightened in equal amounts... but for different reasons. Does that make sense?”

Hiccup nodded.

“The one who asked you to stay is the one who loves you, Hiccup Haddock... and does it really matter which one it is?” 

“No, probably not,” the Viking whispered.

“The one who asked you to stay is the one who's terrified he's going to die and never see you again... never get to say everything he wants to tell you,” Jack said and his voice began to quaver. “It's the one who's afraid he'll have to listen to Aita and leave this beautiful world... these beautiful people... you. I live with that fear every day, Hiccup. Every day! Not the mortal, not the Guardian: just me... Jack.”

“I live with that same fear,” Hiccup croaked out the words as his throat tightened while he listened. “Once a month I sit and watch those shadowy remains of yours... and I worry because I don't know what would happen if you get killed on Earth. Do you die here, too? And I can't do anything about it. Every month I'm left powerless... to even help you while you're over there. I hate it... but I do it ‘cause... ‘cause it's you.”

Jack stared in wide-eyed horror because he never thought about what Hiccup went through during the monthly transition to Earth. He heard and saw the visceral fear in the Viking. It hurt the Guardian to think he put another through that kind of pain on a regular basis. The knowledge added tremendous weight as to why Hiccup viewed the monthly departure as unfair, even if it only lasted one night. For the first time since he rose for the pond transformed into the elemental Jack Frost, he felt a mote of regret that that life followed him to Halla.

A new, highly important question formed in Jack's mind, and he would demand an answer from the other Guardians and The Man in the Moon.

“I won't be transforming tonight,” Jack weakly stated.

“I know, but I also know you will... and right now everything that scares me about you being a Guardian... there's no escaping it. That's what's killing me, Jack: we can never, ever escape it,” Hiccup said. He walked away from the table toward the door while staring at the floor. “I love you so much... and it makes my fear so much worse.”

Jack could not find the words to answer. Tears rolled down his cheeks. Hiccup looked at him, and tears rolled from his eyes as well. The Viking turned his head and continued walking to the door. Jack did not know what to say to make the man stop. Moreover, he questioned whether he could rightly do so. Hiccup reached the door, opened it, and stepped out. He closed it without making a sound. Anguish boiled in Jack in response. Many times he heard Hiccup use the word unfair, and at that moment he finally understood the totality of the meaning. It started ripping at something inside of him. Fury mixed with the sorrow. He stared down at his hands. They remained perfectly human.

Out on the path Hiccup walked and wept. He at last managed to clearly state what being in love with a Guardian did to him. For years he refused to acknowledge how much he loathed the single night of the month when Jack got pulled back to his home world. The vivid memory of when he first contemplated what would happen if Jack died on Earth haunted him for over five years. He imagined the smokey, translucent form of the Earthling would just disappear. Hiccup knew he would left with no explanation except the fact Jack died. It would be as if the man never existed because he would leave no remains. Thus, one night a month Hiccup lived in a terrible dread he could not banish.

“It wasn't... really your fault... Isemaler,” he choked out the words into the night. “You're just a reminder... of what he is... and now I've got... to worry about you.”


	9. Chapter 9

Truth is neither good nor bad: it simply is. Both Hiccup and Jack began to learn that the hard way about themselves and their roles in their relationship. Despite the pain each felt internally, they presented a different face to those around them. Jack learned long ago from the writings of Wise Sir Terry that personal is not the same as important, and what is important should not be taken personally. Greater stakes depended on their actions. Thus, they continued to move forward with the plans made to discern Etuchaand's actions and intents.

Two days after Jack made the appeal to Lord of Winter and the Thunder Queen, Isemaler showed up that morning under his bed. When he spoke, the spirit talked like a person who could not settle on a single thought. It took Jack most of the morning to explain to Isemaler what they believed about Etuchaand and what they intended to do to protect the Spirit of Winter Joy. Jack sent IceSpike with a cryptic message for Hiccup and Valka to the dragon caves simply stating their friend finally arrived and they might with to visit with him. He also asked they inform Fishlegs and Groanhilde. In the late afternoon, the house once more filled with a familiar gathering.

“How is he?” Hiccup asked Jack, and he sounded sincerely concerned.

“Not good. The voice is louder,” Jack said in a reserved fashion.

“Louder?” Fishlegs inquired as he entered the sitting room.

Jack nodded.

Isemaler floated in his favorite corner and hugged his staff. He glanced around in a slightly manic manner. His wild yellow-white haired rocked back and forth in reaction. The spirit looked in pain.

“Isemaler, come over here and sit on this stool,” Jack requested after he placed a tallboy stool in the center of the parlor.

Isemaler did not react right away. It appeared it took him a minute to make up his mind. He grimaced and scowled, but he eventually complied. He drifted downward and to the chair. Only Jack could appreciate the absurdity of the Spirit of Winter Joy sitting on the stool since Isemaler did not actually touch the object. Jack then stood in front of him and waited for the immortal young man to look at him.

“Okay, Isemaler, this is simple,” he said when eye contact got made and remained. “We're going to stand around you. We think living flesh will block Etuchaand's ability to reach your mind. Understand?”

“Yes, yes,” Isemaler rapidly said.

“Alright, everyone gather around him.”

As the group slowly approached and began to circle around the spirit, Jack intently watched Isemaler.

“I don't know how long this will take... if it works at all. We just need to be patient,” he advised the others.

“What do you mean if it works at all?” Groanhilde sputtered, but did not wait for an answer. “For Freya's sake, Jack, look at him. This has to work!”

The fierce compassion the woman showed for Isemaler astounded Hiccup, Jack, and the others by the looks on their faces. Barely a week earlier the woman shrieked in terror at the sight of Isemaler, and now she prepared herself to stand guard over him. It gave their collective sense of hope a small boost.

By previous agreement they all faced away from Isemaler save Jack. He shared a kinship with the spirit unlike the rest, and they did not want to make Isemaler feel uncomfortable if too many stared him. Isemaler lived most of his existence unseen by adults and only on select occasions by children. Jack told them that when he first gained the ability to be seen again, appearing before people made him a tad uneasy. It took him a while to get used to being looked at after centuries of invisibility.

“A little closer,” Jack recommended.

They moved in closer, and Isemaler's eye went wide. They stood in silence. Fishlegs and Groanhilde held hands. One minute passed, and then another. Hiccup shifted on his feet, Jack swayed a little, and Valka became like a statue. It seemed time stopped around the group of people. Hiccup began to privately fret as the wait dragged on. Aside from the lingering ache from his last conversation with Jack, he continued to feel guilt over how he reacted to Isemaler's continued presence in his and Jack's life without ever giving thought a valid reason might exist. It made him feel a little better that the invitation to the spirit allowed him to enter.

“Isemaler?” Jack gently said the name after more than five minutes lapses.

“It's... like a whisper, but... I can't make out the words,” the Spirit of Winter Joy responded in a vaguely vacant tone.

“It's working?” Hiccup muttered the question.

“Seems to be,” Jack answered. He looked at the incorporeal young man and said: “Okay, I'm going to have one person at a time move away. Let me know what happens with the voice.”

“Alright,” Isemaler replied, but he betrayed his nervousness.

“Valka, walk forward about five... six feet,” the Earthling instructed.

Valka performed as bid.

Isemaler winced and said: “I can understand the words now, but it's still a whisper.”

Jack looked at the current configuration of bodies. He more or less stood opposite of Valka. He walked backward five feet and watched Isemaler's eyes closed to slits and he twisted his head to the side as if trying to spare one of his ears.

“Isemaler?” He again prompted with the name.

“Louder... but not as loud as when I got here,” the Spirit of Winter Joy said in a gravelly voice. “Like it was about a week or two ago.”

“Hiccup, move forward the same distance as Valka,” Jack requested.

By the time Hiccup took a second step, Isemaler folded in half and all but wrapped himself around the staff.

“Step back, Hiccup!”

The Viking retreated to his position.

“You, too, Valka, and we can all turn around now,” the Guardian told them.

In a moment five four Vikings and one Earthling stood I a circle facing the Hallan spirit. Isemaler appeared immensely relieved. Hiccup smiled. In fact, they all smiled. To Jack it felt like a small victory against Etuchaand. He hoped it would put in a dent in the being's plans. Hiccup's thoughts traveled in the same direction. Jack glanced from person to person.

“So, how long do you think we can remain standing like this?” He asked.

“What?” Groanhilde blurted. “I've a house and garden to tend to, not to mention getting food ready for Meatlug... and Fishlegs is still working on the damn wheel.”

“I was only joking,” Jack stated in a calm manner and attempted a smile.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Isemaler said in a rush. “You c-c-can't leave me alone. The v-v-voice will c-c-come back!”

The stuttering proved how much the sound of Etuchaand in his head harried and unnerved the spirit.

“I've been thinking about this. I knew we – us – couldn't spend every day and night acting like a shield for him, but I thought of how we can get one for him.”

Five sets of eyes got riveted on him. Jack turned his to Isemaler's. His eyebrows drew together a bit as he prepared to make very serious request.

“But first you have to promise me you'll be on your best behavior, Isemaler, and you won't use your powers where you'll be staying. I need you to listen to me and swear you'll do as I say!”

Isemaler's head bobbed up and down so fast it became a blur.

“I want to hear it, Isemaler. Say the words,” Jack ordered.

“I swear I won't use my powers wherever you're taking me so I don't have to listen to this voice anymore! I swear to Noro the Skydancer I'll do everything you tell me to do!” Isemaler made the vow and went a step further than any expected.

Seriousness crept along the faces of the mortals.

“You need to be surrounded by people, Isemaler, and there's only one house I can think of...”

“Are you out of your mind?” Hiccup growled at him as he formed a best and first guess. “It'll be too tempting for him. He won't be able to control himself there!”

“That's why I made him swear he wouldn't.”

“Jack, you're only asking for more trouble!”

“Can someone please tell me what this frightening solution is?” Valka asked in a sweet voice that scared the three men.

“He wants to stick Isemaler over at Thorston Manor!” Hiccup told her before Jack formed a singled word.

Valka's face reflected grim astonishment. Groanhilde shook her head as if she did not believe what she heard. Jack scowled.

“You have got to be kidding me?” Fishlegs half-wailed. “That's like putting a gronckle in a gravel pit and telling it not to eat. Jack, you're playing with fire.”

“Fine. We'll scrap that idea. Now, someone figure out where Isemaler can stay – invisibly! – where he'll be surrounded by people? I can't think of any place else!”

“What about the dragon cavern?” Groanhilde said without pause.

“It'll descend into chaos after a few days,” Valka retorted and rejected the idea. “Don't forget the dragons can see him, and some species have a weird fascination with Isemaler.”

“I don't want to stay there with all those eyes looking at me,” Isemaler supported the rejection.

Jack folded his arms across his chest. Dressed only in a thin muslin shirt with short sleeves and knee-length britches, he appeared thinner than usual. The heat of the day drove him to the clothing. However, even dressed as such, he presented a formidable wall of obstinance. He met every worried glance with a steely one of his own.

“Well?” He bluntly asked when a silent minute passed.

“Jack, think about it,” Hiccup begged. “He almost a Thorston...”

“I am not. I'm a Skovaks!” Isemaler proudly declared.

“I didn't mean literally, Isemaler.”

“Hiccup, he gave his word and he swore to Noro,” Jack reiterated what just took place.

Groanhilde coughed to get their attention and said: “What about the Gammels? Rotfoot got herself half a dozen children with Cobgob.”

Hiccup bit back on his desire to denounce Berkian naming conventions for the millionth time.

“Half of them tend sheep, and the oldest look after the youngest. They're not all together during the day, so.... Look, he needs a place packed with people... flesh and blood. The Thorstons' have ten bodies in their house, and at least five are there all the time... plus there's Barf and Belch, the chickens, and the runt boar Ruffnut keeps. If Etuchaand can project into Isemaler's head through all that, then I'll go congratulate that thing myself,” Jack told the group in a defiant tone that did not invite challenge.

“Don't forget the dogs,” Fishlegs added.

“Oh, gods, those dogs,” the Guardian moaned, and it drew a smile from all but Hiccup.

Hiccup looked worried because the idea put a fright into him. As the resident eccentrics of Berk, he feared normal Thorston behavior would appeal too much to Isemaler's playful side. A steady-state of low-level chaos reigned at the home Ruffnut and Tuffnut established with their respective spouses. Hiccup fell back on Fishlegs example of a gronckle in a gravel pit. The dragons would come close to eating themselves to death if the right kind of stone lay in the mix. He doubted Isemaler could show more control than a hungry gronckle.

“Hiccup, you object to this most, so I'll leave it to you to think of a better place to keep Isemaler,” Jack said and verbally threw done a gauntlet.

Hiccup aimed a gaze of such complete worry at Jack that Jack almost started to second-guess himself. However, he spent the day thinking of each family on Berk where they could hide the spirit if the experiment worked, and all came up short in protective terms except the Thorstons. While not ideal for any number of reasons, Jack arrived at the conclusion they would never find a perfect solution. Thus, he held his stance and met the Viking's set visage with his own.

Fifteen minutes later an oddly tight semi-circle of people exited the Haddock house and began the long trek to Thorston Manor located on the far northeastern side of the island not far from the beaches. Each person appeared uncomfortable as they marched along, two looked embarrassed, but Jack led the way and presented a pleasant face to any they passed. Hiccup mumbled to himself and shook his head every now and again. Fishlegs and Groanhilde held hands, brought up the rear, and tried to avoid any direct eye contact with the other villagers who watched the strange procession pass. Valka simply took the measures in stride and carried herself as she did on any other occasion. In the middle of the group a space large enough for at least one person appeared unoccupied.

Deep down inside their individual minds Hiccup and Jack shared one unspoken thought: a real sense of pride in and thankfulness for the people who would go to such lengths to protect the Spirit of Winter Joy. Their thinking, however, diverged when it came to the current scheme of secreting Isemaler with the Thorstons. Hiccup believed, and he could point to numerous historical examples, the Spirit of Winter Joy would be unable to control himself around the daily insanity inspired by Ruffnut and Tuffnut's off-kilter behavior and style of thinking. Jack, while he did not completely disagree with the assessment, hoped against hope Isemaler would live by his vow because otherwise he might not continue to live at all. He knew it to be a gamble, but he saw no other recourse.

Later that evening while sitting alone in the house and toying with a hastily prepared meal, Jack sat with a piece of paper and transcribed in exact but sparse detail all he and others concluded about Etuchaand. No one needed to tell him Isemaler hiding at the Thorstons would only serve as a temporary solution. Sooner or later, the spirit would give in to the call of his duty and not the craziness of the house where he hid. He would become vulnerable as his sense of responsibility took over. Half way across the island, Hiccup sat in his room staring at the wall. Since speaking with Fishlegs while conducting a preliminary examination of the collapsible docks, his friend's insistence they missed some crucial element in the puzzle of Etuchaand incessantly nagged him. The lean Viking never discounted anything Fishlegs said during a serious discussion. If the man felt some connection between all the pieces got overlooked, then Hiccup trusted the assessment. However, Fishlegs still remained unable to identify what he thought they missed. Thus, Hiccup sat and review all the information he could remember.

Over the course of the next thirteen days prior to Jack's monthly departure, Isemaler surprised everyone as he strictly maintained his promise. Hiccup, Jack, and Fishlegs found reasons to go visit the Thorstons. They took it as a sign their prestige in the village finally started to wax. Hiccup used the pretext he needed to gather lists of what people might need for winter preparations, something never far from the minds of Berkians. Jack made a showing with toolbox in hand stating he could not in good conscious let damage furniture go unfixed in a house with children. Fishlegs arrived with the idea of bartering for various yak-milk and boar products, the very staples of the Thorston Manor. In each case, each man learned that Isemaler found floating just under the surface of the main dining table offered him the best protection. The Thorstons used the table for just about every activity they undertook, and the animals tended to congregate on the floor under it as well. Hence, the spirit got surrounded most of the day by a veritable wall of flesh. Isemaler seemed weirdly happy.

On the night of Jack's transformation, he found himself disappointed when Fishlegs arrived to keep watch over him. Apparently Hiccup talked to the man and Valka and devised a schedule so one person did not bear the sole responsibility. The unassailable logic of the notion still left a stinging sensation in Jack. He hid what he thought, and thanked Fishlegs for assuming the task that month. Jack lay down on his bed with a reminder to Fishlegs that the amount of time he spent in transition varied between eight to eleven hours for reasons he never quite sorted out. Fishlegs wished him well and hoped Jack enjoyed his time on Earth. The man still did not fully understand what he did, Jack thought as the drowsiness began to seep into him as the full moon rose above the horizon. Then he felt the touch of his maker's power as light unseen by others began to bath him. Within moments, the transition and transportation began.

“Shit!” Jack howled the next morning when he achieved solidity and he heard a booming sound in his ears.

The voice of Etuchaand rang loud and terrible while delivering the same old message Jack heard a month before. He thought again of the first time he heard Aita speaking deep under the ocean as the entity collected the last vestiges of those who drowned in the capsized boat. However and in spite of the pain Etuchaand's voice caused, it lacked the overwhelming force of The Breathless One. That puzzled Jack during the brief two seconds before the message started again. Regardless, he arrived on Halla with an urgency, and he could not let the horrendous voice only he and Isemaler could hear keep him from his task.

Jack tried to calm himself, and then slowly sat up. A weight tugged at his hand, and one form of relief washed through him. A canvas backpack remained clutched in his left hand; a hand that only held a few sheets of paper as he began the transition the previous evening. The fifteen minutes he spent absorbing extra energy before he departed Earth proved worth the physical discomfort it caused at the time. The now mostly mortal Spirit of Fun hugged the pack to his chest and felt the contents. Not even the voice pounding between his ears like a boulder rolling down a mountainside could dislodge the swell of joy he felt at the moment. He closed his eyes.

“The expanse is goes on forever,” the newly returned Guardian whispered. “The distance between the stars seems endless. The void is cold. The void is dark. The void is silent.”

Jack repeated the phrases over and over in his mind. He listened to his own internal voice instead of the one trying to obliterate his thoughts. The routine felt pointless at first as Etuchaand's dire promises and threats beat back the sentences Jack repeated over and over and over. Finally, he focused on the last three.

“The void is cold. The void is dark. The void is silent,” he even mumbled aloud. “The void is cold. The void is dark. The void is silent”

As he mentally said the words, he started to picture what he saw during an experiment on Earth. Because of his physical nature as an elemental spirit, it allowed him a few liberties denied the other Guardians. They tested to see at what range Jack could continue to make mental contact with Baby Tooth. He and the small faerie forged an incredible bond many years before when she remained by his side during one of the bleakest moments of his immortal life on Earth. Jack loved her as dearly as an other person he knew. Through that love, they could find one another. Once before they used their connection in the fight against Pulhu. This time, they tested to see at what distance the link remained.

Jack and Baby Tooth remained in touch with one another until Jack rose over eight thousand, two hundred miles above Earth. The voice of the faerie could not reach that far, but it gave Jack and the Guardians a vital piece of information he could use on Halla. He also got a taste of the reality of space while hovering in the shadow Earth. He encountered a silence he never dreamed could exist. It left him alone with only his mind once he traveled beyond the range of Baby Tooth. The experience left a deep impression on him, and one that Leiyís'axt remarked upon.

“I heard the little men who dress in orange robes talk about such a quiet place they find within themselves. They say it is a personal sanctuary,” the hado'ih intoned after Jack explained to the Broken Nose where he went and what he did.

On Halla, Jack struggled to find that inner spot of quiet. He read about and studied the meditative practices of the Buddhist monks. It served as a crash course. While not a master in any regard, Jack's trip into space provided him a real example of perfect and true silence. He forged his own mantra to help him recall those moments when he floated alone above the world. In a strange way, it also gave Jack insight into the silence of The Man in the Moon.

“The void is cold. The void is dark. The void is silent,” he continued to repeat until, at last, it started to push away the voice of Etuchaand.

With the knowledge he could ease the presence of Etuchaand in his head, Jack halted the mantra and fell on his side when the voice came thundering back. He breathed deep and vowed to see the important tasks at hand to completion. The man with the brown hair and mellow brown eyes struggled to his knees, crawled off the bed, and got unsteadily to his feet. The voice disoriented him due the perceived intensity and volume. Jack set down the precious pack, opened one compartment, and pulled out a thick roll of papers. Then he staggered to and down the stairs, leaning against the wall for support.

“Jack!” Fishlegs voice called out to him. “Great Odin, it's happening to you to, isn't it?”

The man spoke as he trotted to the Earthing. Jack fell against the stout Viking, and Fishlegs barely budged from the sudden contact. He held out roll of paper. Pressed it against Fishlegs chest.

“You and Hic... cup. Read these,” the now solid elemental man panted. “Do... what it... says. Make it!”

“Jack, are you going to be okay?” His friend asked in a very worried voice.

“Sit. Need... to sit,” Jack murmured as Etuchaand promised for the umpteenth time to kill the child of Elada and take the Sickle.

Fishlegs helped Jack walk to a chair. Jack fell gracelessly into it. Once sitting, he began to recite his mantra.

“The void is cold. The void is dark. The void is silent,” he forced himself to said in an even pattern even though the pain in his head made him want to curl into a ball and cry.

“I think I understand what it means,” Hiccup said several hours later while scanning the sheets of paper on the dining table in the house.

Jack continued to murmur his mantra. Hiccup did not question that it helped the hidden Guardian. He saw what Jack endured when the chant halted. The phrases, however, intrigued him. The last he ever heard Jack talk about a void, especially a dark one, centered on the Spirit of Fun's first encounter with The Breathless One. That experience robbed Jack of his senses, and for very good reasons. It would remain a mystery, the Viking silently admitted, until the last bits of Guardian in the man got submerged too far under the flesh for Etuchaand to reach. 

“I want some of this paper,” Fishlegs said as he admired the substrate instead of the intricate drawings and paragraphs of text written in a familiar Hallan runes by a more familiar hand.

“This has got to be the work of the yeti,” Hiccup said and focused on the actual content, although he shared the same want with his friend. “It's too simple and elegant even for Jack. It's... brilliant... whatever it is.”

“I don't understand what goes in that circular slot there,” the rotund and impressively smart Viking rumbled as he flipped over a few sheets and pointed to the area in question on one drawing. “What's a vortex globe?”

“No clue, but the picture looks like these round glass bulbs Nick had all over his castle. They had little scenes in each one: miniature houses and trees and people and... normal stuff for them, I guess. And he filled the rest of the bulb with water and these little white flakes of... stuff. When you shook it, it looked like it was snowing inside.”

“Clever,” Fishlegs said in an appreciative whisper. “We really need to do more glass work.”

“Later, Fishlegs. This device is going to take us a while to build,” Hiccup rejoined and sidelined the other topic. “The wire alone is going to take us a solid week to pull, and I don't know if we got enough ore for all of this.”

“Well, we have dragons and riders who could use something to do. When know the islands where the whispering death likes to tunnel, so we can go mining... but where going to have to leave the gronckles and hotburbles behind so they can make all this gronckle iron. What is with that empty gronckle iron crate at the bottom of that small hollow pillar?

“I could tell you if I took part in the planning, but I was sort stuck here on this world,” the leaner of the two Vikings said with a touch of acerbity in his tone. “This is going to be an intense effort... and he wants it done in the next two or three weeks. I don't think we can do it with just us.”

“Snotlout can help,” Fishlegs said. “I heard Farb say he did pretty good on the forge and anvil during the Knusehode attack... not that we needed it.”

“Well, that's a start. We'll have to carefully conscript people when we can. First things first: we need more metal of at least three different kinds. Never thought I'd say this, but it's time to go find a whispering death.”

While Jack spent three days in a meditative semi-trance or rolling around on his bed trying to smoother the sound with a pillow, Hiccup and Fishlegs went to work on the contraption. They described as much as they could to Valka and Groanhilde of what they saw on the plans but did not fully understand. For the rest of the village they operated under the guise of trying to get a head start on the winter preparation, and Fishlegs concocted a wild story about trying to predict the severity of the winter. Since all Berkians lived with a very healthy respect for winter, no one openly challenged their activities. The governing council requested a more thorough explanation, and Fishlegs outdid himself with a series of charts, drawings, and graphs that, if thought about logically, made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

When the voice in Jack's head faded to a tolerable level that did not require meditation to keep in check, he emerged from the house to discover a flurry of activity. It both pleased and stunned him to think Hiccup and Fishlegs would take orders from sheets of paper. However, when they saw he roused, Groanhilde cooked a dinner on the fourth night after Jack's return so the group could get a full accounting of what they did thus far. They gathered in the smaller Ingerman house, but with Isemaler peacefully and quietly ensconced at the Thortson's they did not need to worry about invoking the suspicions of their neighbors.

“Good meat pie,” Valka said as she broke off another piece of crust and dipped it in the gravy. “Meat is tender. Yak or boar?”

“Both,” Groanhilde told her. “They balance each other. Yak can be kind of gamy and boar on the strong side.”

The group ate for a short while before pouncing on Jack.

“What the himmel is this thing we're making?” Hiccup begged the question.

“Um... okay, you probably guessed the yeti designed it,” he began, and took a swig of ale from his mug.

Hiccup rolled his eyes while Groanhilde asked: “What's a yeti?”

“A people, huge people, covered with fur who live on Earth but came from someplace else,” Jack informed her.

“Like Beserkers!”

They laughed at her joke, and she seemed please by the response.

“They're the smartest people I've ever met, Groanhilde. Their technical knowledge and skill is only surpassed by my maker... and he made me what I am.”

The statement caused an awed silence to take hold for a few seconds.

“So it's not your fault if what I'm about to tell you doesn't make sense. I barely understand it myself,” Jack opened the explanation. “From what I can gather, it's a different kind of power collector and amplifier. When I told them about gronckle iron – the metal from the internal furnace of a specific type of boulder dragon given to eating and mixing different substances together...”

“What?” Fishlegs interrupted.

“It's yeti-speak,” Hiccup said first. “Their words are really, really detailed and specific. It took Jack ages to get me to understand just the basic concepts of how they communicate.”

“That whole metal from the internal furnace is how I labeled gronckle iron,” Jack took over and Fishlegs nodded more in seeming appreciation than comprehension. “When I explained the attributes of gronckle iron, they got all excited. The next thing I knew they started asking me all sorts of questions about what I am in my Guardian form, what Isemaler is and how closely related we are, the problems with the quantum differences in energies – yeah, yeah, Hiccup, I know: it had to come up sooner or later.”

The senior dragon rider smirked at Jack's annoyance.

“Then they asked if they could experiment on me, and... let's just say it wasn't pleasant, but they told me it would be worthwhile. It made flying out into space seem like nothing.”

“You went into space?” Valka inquired with a hint of disbelief.

“In my immaterial form, I'm not subjected to the vacuum... okay, imagine if you took a metal ball and removed all the air from the inside...”

“It'd collapse, Jack. The external pressure would... Oh, I get it,” Fishlegs interjected and then answered his own question.

“Anyway, a flesh and blood person would die in less time than it takes to buckle into a saddle, and...”

“But why'd you do that. Go out into that space stuff?” Groanhilde butted in.

“To test how far I could mentally communicate with one of my friends on Earth. It's not magic or god stuff...”

“It's quantum,” Hiccup inserted with a nasty giggle.

“Shut up,” Jack rounded on him, but he grinned as well. “And he's right, but the important part is I know know how close Etuchaand has to be in order to jam thoughts into Isemaler's and my brain. We were right in one of our speculations: Etuchaand is somewhere on this planet within eight thousand miles of us.”

It took a moment to describe the distance to Groanhilde since she did not fly a dragon and did understand the relative scale of miles, a principle Jack taught to the other dragon riders. The others took the opportunity to cram more of Groanhilde's cooking into their mouths. While a much heartier fare than Jack liked to make, it tasted every bit as delicious. It also made clear how Fishlegs managed to maintain his girth.

“That's good and important information, but how does it relate to this thing we're building?” Valka questioned on the main reason for the meeting.

“That thing your building, if it works the way the yeti think it will, is a trap for Etuchaand.”

Four mouths fell open, and Jack got a distasteful view of half-chewed food.

“And, better yet, this will send it back to my universe,” he said in a quiet, but noticeably triumphant manner.

Stunned gazes got focused on him. Jack did not decry their reaction since he reacted the same way after the yeti told him the purpose of the painful experiments. When they showed him the drawings a few days later and told him what the device would do, Jack wept with open relief. The other Guardians seemed to understand and encouraged him to take as much hope from the genius of the yeti as he could. In order to gain better knowledge of the device's functions, Jack copied the drawings under the watchful eyes of Goorah and Phyllis, and then spoke aloud the translation of the instructions as he wrote the passages in the Hallan language. He worked on the plans every morning for several hours for over a week to make sure he correctly copied all the details. The yeti performed no less than five checks of his work before they approved.

“So... how does it work?” Fishlegs eagerly inquired.

“In simple terms: I'm the power source and the gateway seed. The device will amplify my power as I turn back into my elemental form, and then expand a vortex to trap and transport Etuchaand while I shift to Earth. Once there, Father Moon will have to deal with that thing,” the Guardian said and grew fierce by the last sentence.

“I don't need to know how the thing works since the yeti designed it,” Hiccup slowly began. “But I do need to know how in blazes are we going to get Etuchaand into the device?”

“And that's why I went into space around Earth... and I learned why Father Moon doesn't talk to us. He can't unless he expends a huge amount of energy to bridge the distance, and he's using almost all his power to keep Etuchaand's body trapped on the moon... and keeping the moon tidally locked so the Etuchaand side always faces away from Earth.”

“You still haven't explained how we're going to get Etuchaand to fall into the trap,” Fishlegs drolly commented.

“Oh, yeah, that,” Jack said and felt his cheeks heat up. Learning why Father Moon never spoke to the Guardians tended to capture his attention, but he shifted gears and said: “Etuchaand is somewhere on this planet within a set radius of eight-thousand or so miles. It means we don't have to search the whole planet if it keeps on trying to subdue Isemaler. If we find Etuchaand, we lure it into a fight. If it breaks off it's attack on Isemaler, then it will need to start all over again. Now that Isemaler is alerted to what Etuchaand does and can do, he can always come back here.”

“This could take years, Jack,” Hiccup opined.

“So what? Sooner or later Etuchaand will get desperate and make a move. Sandy agrees that creature needs my body to get the staff and return to Earth on it's own terms. If I live out my life and I die, then it gets trapped in this universe. It knows it will eventually die as well, and it doesn't want that. Hiccup, Etuchaand will be forced to act.”

Heads twitched back and forth during Hiccup and Jack's exchange. Hiccup looked doubtful, but Jack sounded confident. Everyone waited for the next bout.

“What if he manages to drag you back here a second time?” The russet-haired male Viking postulated.

“Do you really think Aita or Noro will let that happen?” The Guardian in mortal form countered.

“I don't mean to be picky,” Groanhilde said as the stare down continued between the men, “but are you saying we have start a fight with this Etuchaand thing?”

Four heads turned toward her.

“And didn't you say it has a lot of power... like the thing that made you?” She squarely addressed Jack.

“That is, ah, the one catch in the plan,” he almost whispered the statement.

“So now we have to build this contraption and figure out a way to get Etuchaand to actually fall into it by using ourselves as bait? Oh, sure, there're no problems with this plan,” Hiccup sarcastically retorted.

“Once again, do you have a better idea because I sure in himmel would like to hear it?” Jack hotly contested.

“Boys, don't fight,” Valka said in a fashion that did not leave room for argument. “It may not be an easy or perfect solution, but at least we have one. Now it's up to us to fine tune the plan to make sure it has the best chance of succeeding. You two sniping at each other is not going to help.”

“Yes, Mom,” Hiccup grumbled.

“Sorry, Valka,” Jack said in a similar manner.

“First we need to make that device exactly as Jack's friends designed it,” she continued. “From what I can see, they took our level of technology into account. That shows how smart they really are.”

Heads nodded as the senior dragon woman took charge. Hiccup knew his mother quarantined him to let his emotions subside. He hated schemes that depended on too many or too varied of factors lacking adequate compensation. The notion they would need to physically confront Etuchaand scared the life out of him. He never forgot watching Jack in full power take apart the awful prison on Earth with frightening ease. If Etuchaand possessed even more power, he could not imagine how they could fight the thing. Moreover, Jack appeared blasé to that fact. It angered the Viking because it meant lives would be put in jeopardy.

“Next, we need to think calmly and rationally about how we can fight Etuchaand... except we don't really need to fight the creature: we just need to lure it to the trap,” Valka said and offered a glimpse of new hope.

“It's a matter of time, too, ‘cause Jack's transition only takes a minute or two. We won't have a huge window of opportunity.

Jack saw Hiccup's frown deepen and offered the best news he could: “That won't be a problem, Fishlegs. The yeti designed this so it will keep me transitional stasis...”

“What?” Groanhilde chimed.

“Um, I'll change into my other form, but I won't go to Earth for about an hour. It'll give them a chance to open the portal and get Etuchaand into it.”

“And you couldn't've told us that from the beginning?” Hiccup complained.

“I can't explain everything at once!” Jack shot back.

“Hiccup! Jack!” Valka loudly called them to task. “I know things are rough between you right now, but this is not the time to antagonize each other. If you keep it up, I'll have Cloudjumper sit on both of you until you cool off! Now grow up and stop acting like children!”

A awkward, thick silence settled over the table as the two men glared at one another. Jack fished around in his head to find a reason why Hiccup suddenly became hostile to the only workable solution they yet found. A small part of his mind volunteered the answer: Hiccup never bargained to face god-like beings bent on destruction and killing. The Viking only ever wanted someone to love who would love him in return, and perhaps the occasional marauder invasion. Jack realized he arrived packed with another complete world inside his body. It dragged Hiccup into a realm his earlier life never prepared him to face. However, Jack did not believe it gave the man the right to be an obstinate ass about everything.

“Now, if everyone is settled, let's try to be reasonable discuss what needs to be done in what order and we can figure out how we'll corner Etuchaand after we finish the trap,” Valka said in a pleasant fashion, all the while throwing mean looks at her son and her son's mate.


	10. Chapter 10

Working on a secret project out in the open grew increasingly difficult with each passing day. Valka assigned shifts of dragon riders to go on mining missions, all the while refreshing them on the warning signs of an approaching whispering death, and no one said much. Fishlegs organized groups of boulder class dragons to begin the production of gronckle iron, and that raised a few eyebrows. The forge belched smoke day and night, especially the smelters, as Hiccup directed his journeymen and recently drafted apprentice in creating the best iron and steel they could. The yeti provided some instructions on producing finer quality steel, and Hiccup struggled to master the techniques. This caused some ire in others as their commissioned projects got shoved to the side. It did not take a genius to figure out what the small contingent of craftsmen Vikings said did not entirely align with what they did.

“Why they got all those big dragons grinding up blackrock and then heating it in big pans?” Bucket asked Jack as he waited for a batch of new handles for his tools.

Of all the craftspeople, Jack kept to his normal routine. Hiccup thought if might look suspicious if everyone in the workshop applied themselves to metal work. Jack did not say it, but he believed Hiccup to be less than observant at the times when pressure built.

“We're trying to find a way to smelt better steel,” Jack answered him. “Fishlegs thinks if we use a finer grade of blackrock, we'll get better results. He accidentally spilled some blackrock dust in the melted iron, and it did something to the ore that made cleaner steel. We're hoping to be able to make a lot of it.”

Jack did not lie, and the answer seemed to satisfy Bucket and several others who listened in on the discussion. Steel to Vikings often became more valuable than gold. Gold looked pretty and did not tarnish, but one could not make a suitable axe or sword blade from the substance. High quality steel, however, could mean the different between life and death. Once word got around the smiths experimented with making a better grade steel, some of the curiosity dropped away. When large sheets of the improved steel began to appear, Hiccup explained it away as an easy manner to store large quantities of the material. The wire drawing process, however, defied simple explanation, and people gathered to watch Hiccup and Snotlout pull semi-melted copper, the Vikings called it soft red iron, through a steel die. Snotlout got burned several times, much to amusement of the on-lookers.

“What's the wire for?” Goattteeth asked as she observed from the doorway to the smithy.

“Handle wraps,” Hiccup grunted as he tried to apply even force while extruding the wire.

“What's wrong with leather?”

“Wire gives a better grip and last longer... and leather rots when it gets wet for too long, and the salts and oils from skin don't do it any favors after a while. I hate that smell. Plus red iron makes it's own protective coating.”

“I suppose so. Seems like a lot of work for a hilt wrap.”

Hiccup did not speak right away while he carefully coiled the new section of wire on a drum and worked quickly to draw more.

“Ever tan a hide?” He asked in return.

“Ugh, can't stand that smell, either. ‘Sides, the Hurlsons do a good job at it,” Goatteeth responded with the most common reply.

Hiccup nodded and then ordered Snotlout to get Stoneface, a loaned hotburple, to apply more heat to the melt cauldron. Snotlout shook the hotburple with his foot, and the creature opened its mouth and vomited more of the hot, thick flame its kind produced. The wire flowed a bit faster from the extrusion opening. Hiccup ignored the questions thrown at him since making a fine, even wire required concentration. He still did not quite grasp the concept of a conductive coil even though Jack explained it several times. The Viking thought he probably needed to see it in operation in order to appreciate how it would amplify the energy in Jack's Guardian form. It reinforced the fact the yeti conceived an idea on a much higher intellectual plane.

At lunch on the fourth day of production, a full week after his return from Earth, Jack flew IceSpike to the northwest side of the island and the location of the rock quarry Berk used when it needed stone. He found Fishlegs hard at work with one of the better stonemasons. IceSpike landed Jack twenty feet away, and then she flew up to the ledge of the quarry to watch the action. He walked toward the two sweating men who worked alone in the pit, and he carried a large skin of water he left soaking in the cold cave since the night before.

“Fleck, Fishlegs,” Jack called out and sided with Hiccup on not calling the stone worker Shitefleck as he got named at birth.

The men paused and brushed chips of stone from their clothing.

“Catch!” Jack said when when got close enough and tossed the skin to the older Viking.

Fleck caught it with one gnarled and strong hand and said: “Much obliged, Jack. Much obliged.”

Fleck uncorked the skin and began to guzzle the cold liquid.

“How goes it, Fishlegs?” He inquired of the Viking waiting his turn to slake his thirst.

“It's the largest anvil stone I've even seen let alone helped make,” Fishlegs said with pride and a smile. “We'll be able to shape whole sheets of steel on this!”

“Here'ee,” Fleck said and passed the water skin to Fishlegs. “What's this all for if ye don't mind me asking?”

“Two things,” Jack said and got ready to spew the lie the group concocted for just that question. “We're making storage silos we can move around the island during harvest, and then maybe some big snare pots for the deep water claw crabs. Toothless brought up a claw the size of Fishlegs not that long ago.”

“And ate it all, I'll bet,” the man predicted with a wry smile.

“Couldn't even get close to him.”

“So if this is your shaping stone, what'll ye be using for a hammer... and who's gonna lift the damn thing?”

“That's the next thing we're making,” Fishlegs answered while wiping his mouth, “and a group of dragons will be used to raise and drop it ‘til we can build a strong enough scaffolding, pulleys, and weights.”

“Seems like an awful lot of work for some cans and claw traps,” Fleck intoned and sounded skeptical.

“At first, but it's the law of averages at work here, Fleck. We make this now, we can use it for years. We'll be able to turn out three or four new silos and trap pots in a tenth the time it'd take two smiths to fashion one,” Jack said as he eyed the monstrous anvil stone.

“Well, ye seem to know a right bit more than I do, Jack, and half the time I ain't got one idea what Fishlegs is talking about. I trust ye know what you're doing,” the brawny Viking stated. “Ye know I've put aside a fair bit of work to do this?”

“And you'll get a new steel chisel set from Hiccup, and I'll see to it every stick of furniture you have is good as new... or new-built if needed. Fair trade?”

“Yeah, aye: fair trade, Jack. Just didn't know this was that important. It'd be good fall work to tell ye the truth.”

“When do you think it will be done?” Jack casually asked and avoid the topic of rescheduling.

“Well, let's see now,” Fleck said and scratched at his chin. “Final shape on the anvil'll be done today. I'll set Fishy...”

“Fishlegs, or I call you by your full name,” the blonde, round Viking threatened.

“Right, right. I'll set Fishlegs to smoothing it out. Good apprentice work there. He'll do that while I set the cuts and wedges in the rock face for the next block for the hammerhead. That's more or less one square end and one round end, so shouldn't take but two days to shape most of it. Give or take four days ‘til we're full done with this.”

“Excellent,” Jack said and nodded to Fishlegs, who also appeared pleased if perhaps a little weary.

“Fleck really knows what he's doing. It's like he can read stone and knows right where to strike to break off a perfect chip,” Fishlegs said, and Jack did not doubt his sincerity.

“Just experience, Fishy-legs. Been doing this for thirty years and made plenty of anvil stones for Gobber back in the day. This ain't nothing but the same ‘cept a wee bit bigger,” the man rejoined with a gift for understatement.

“We're in your debt, Fleck, for taking this on ahead of other work,” Jack told the man in a serious tone. “If you're up for it, we're putting on an evening meal for everyone helping out. You and Greeny are more than welcome to attend.”

“Nice of ye, Jack. I'll get her mind on it when I get home. She hates to cook and not have me eat it, but maybe I can catch her ‘fore gets to searing the meat,” Fleck replied.

“Do that, and give her our regards.”

With that Jack let out with a loud whistle Gobber taught him eight years before, and IceSpike dropped from the cliff edge and gracefully extended her wings. She glided into quarry pit and neatly landed by the trio of men.

“Never had it my head to find me one of them, but that's a slick looking dragon you got there,” Fleck complimented IceSpike.

Jack caught the faint jealous expression on his Fishleg's face, and he smirked at his friend. Fishlegs would tell anyone who would listen about the superior qualities of a gronckle and Meatlug in particular. Jack thanked the man and mounted the dragon. He only used two straps since he only planned on flying back to the village square. After a wave and familiar dragon rider call from Jack, IceSpike took the air with a mighty down stroke of her wings and kick from her powerful back legs.

The work progressed apace, although not without complications and difficulty. The yeti plans seemed to require very close tolerances. As the raw materials got refined and they neared fabrication of the device, Hiccup and Jack began to argue with greater frequency about how far they could deviate from the plans. Hiccup wanted to hew as closely to the drawings and specifications as possible, and Jack countered they would loose too much time attempting to correct small errors. As they began their third week of construction, one week before the full moon, tensions overflowed during a planning session that took place over an evening meal.

“The wire thickness varies too much and the coils don't look even, so we need to re-pull ten or twelve dozen yards,” Hiccup said as he sat skipping food and staring at the wire he and Snotlout produced.

“It's fine, Hiccup,” Jack said in a brusque and dismissive manner. “It'll conduct and step up the energy without any problem.”

“Really? So uneven flow between the coils doesn't bother you? What if we exceed what the secondary coil can tolerate... or we create a choke point in the primary and there's not enough energy to power that vortex thing?”

“It's going to be okay! The yeti knew we couldn't make anything to the same quality they can, so they devised it so it's a matter of total energy output. The vortex will open when sufficient energy is present. The coil system is only the amplifier as the power runs from one collection chamber to the next.”

“You don't understand what I'm trying to tell you, do you?” Hiccup grunted at him. “If we don't build this like they designed, it won't transform enough of your energy to power the vortex!”

“Show me on the plans where it gives you any indication that will happen!” Jack spat back.

“You can't just wing this, Jack. You can't just think one thickness of wire is as good as another. It doesn't work that way. You need to pay attention to what the designers intended!”

“Hiccup, I know the designers. I re-copied the plans so I could see the overall functional concept. This isn't rocket science...”

“Don't start shooting off terms I don't know just to make yourself sound smarter,” Hiccup railed against the man sitting across the table. “I've done my fair share of engineering, as you call it, and building over the years in case you haven't noticed!”

“You're not even thinking straight,” Jack barked at the Viking. “There are no mechanical parts to this, Hiccup. You're trying to make it more complicated than it needs to be like you always do!”

Within seconds they began yelling at each other and slowly rose to their feet as each sought to make the other concede to his point. Valka calmly tried to get them to back down and think about what they said, but the two men ignored her. The argument quickly devolved into personal matters. Hiccup accused Jack of consistently failing to take the individual elements into consideration as he tried to control the big picture. Jack stated Hiccup's overwhelming desire to focus on minor and sometimes tangential details caused unnecessary delays in plans to the point that plans became irrelevant. In short, their unique worldviews began to clash as each sought to direct the project toward completion using their own style. They utterly failed to work together, and neither could see that point.

“Shut up!” Fishlegs finally yelled into Hiccup's face and manhandled him into sitting down.

“Close your gob!” Groanhilde hollered at Jack and pushed down on Jack's shoulders so hard his knees buckled.

The Ingermans managed to cause a break in the arguing.

“What is wrong with you two?” Valka growled at them.

“He al-muff...” Jack began to say, but Groanhilde's rather impressively large hand covered over his mouth.

“See..” Hiccup tried to get in a word.

“Don't!” Fishlegs snorted while his face hovered inches from the Hiccup's.

Hiccup and Jack sat in silence and glared at one another.

“Everyone on this island and half a dozen other ones know full well you two don't see eye-to-eye anymore. I don't know what happened to cause this, and right now I don't care,” Valka began a tirade against her son and Jack. “Is proving you're right to the other so important you're willing to risk Isemaler and Jack's life... possibly all of ours?”

Her baleful glare caused both men to flinch.

“You're not arguing about the trap anymore: you're arguing about the grievances you have with each other, and this has got to end. We don't have the time... and, personally, I don't have the inclination, to nurse whatever wounds you've inflicted on each other. We need to get through this Etuchaand crisis first, and then you two can bloody kill one another for all I care at the moment.”

Hiccup felt his face fall when as he listened to his mother. However, she turned to Jack who continued to scowl.

“This thing is here because of you,” Valka said without any hint of sympathy.

Jack's jaw dropped down in astonishment at the statement. Valka swung her head around faced her son.

“This thing is here also because of you,” she grated out the words. He head then swung back and forth as she continued. “This problem is yours together because you wouldn't let each other die. I might mourn the loss of an incredible person like Jack and I would definitely mourn the loss of my son who decided to leave Berk for good, but I wouldn't be facing some crazed god who wants to destroy everything else I love. I can't sit here and let whatever petty, stupid problems you have with each other threaten everything I care about. Either you get this sorted out today, or I'll organize an evacuation of Berk and leave you two alone to face Etuchaand. Do you understand what I am saying?”

“Mom, it's not like...” Hiccup began in a quiet voice.

“I did not ask for any of your obsessive thoughts, son; I asked if you understand what I am going to do!”

Hiccup nodded.

Valka's head almost literally spun on her neck and she bore down on Jack by saying: “Do not begin to equivocate, Jack. I don't want to hear a stream of words I don't understand. I just want to hear whether or not you understand my back-up plan.”

“I do,” Jack squeaked.

She folded her napkin and set it next to the plate of mostly uneaten food. She then glanced at Fishlegs and Groanhilde. They watched her with intense interest.

“Groanhilde, would it be possible if I could join you and Fishlegs for some of those wonderful cold mutton sandwiches you make. I think I have a bottle of wine stashed somewhere in my rooms. How about I grab that and meet you at your house?” Valka sweetly asked.

“It'd be my pleasure, Valka,” Groanhilde answered in the same voice.

Fishlegs nodded his head in agreement.

“Hiccup. Jack,” Valka said as she stood. “Thank you for a perfectly terrible evening. I hope you both rot in himmel for your selfishness.”

With that the woman walked away from the table. The Ingermans also stood. Fishlegs cast a dark expression at the two other men. Groanhilde would not even look at them. The couple also walked away from the table at an easy pace. Once they caught up to Valka, the trio exited the house. Valka closed the door so it issued a loud thump. Outside the floorboards of the porch squeaked as the threesome walked to and down the steps.

Hiccup and Jack stared at one another in silence. Between them they wanted to say ten thousand awful things, but neither spoke. Valka's pronouncements hung heavily in the air. Seconds seemed to stretch into eternity.

“Is this all we've got left of each other? The arguing?” Jack asked when the silence threatened to topple him.

“I don't know. Maybe,” Hiccup said in a small voice. “I just can't imagine why you can't see the problem with the wire.”

“This isn't about the wire anymore, Hiccup. Yeah, sure, I'd love to spend an hour yelling that you need to take a look at the whole device... but... would it make any difference?”

“I don't... probably not.”

“What are we going to do then?” Jack asked a question that could about to dozens of topics between them.

Hiccup shrugged his shoulders. They once again sat in a turgid, ungainly silence. Jack stared at the food growing cold on his plate. Hiccup started toying with his mug.

“We need to take this fight away from Berk,” Jack said without any preamble.

“So now you want to fight me?” Hiccup grumbled.

“No, I meant the fight with Etuchaand. We can't set up the device and use it here. This needs to take place where it won't endanger an entire village.”

“I've been thinking the same thing.”

Jack rolled his eyes.

“Can't you just stop for one second,” Hiccup said in a loud voice. “You might come from a place with advanced technology, but don't forget who couldn't figure out how to train or ride a dragon after he gained the trust of one!”

Jack nearly winced. Hiccup picked a sore spot in his ego. For almost two weeks when he first partnered with the woolly howl he tried to train IceSpike on his own, and he failed in a spectacular fashion. Jack thought, and he since regretted his line of thinking, that one who spent so much time flying on his own could instruct a dragon in the art of tandem flight. It took Hiccup, Fishlegs, Ruffnut, and Tuffnut over a month to undo the mistakes he made and make IceSpike respond to the correct commands.

“That maybe true, but when was last time you touched or even saw a mechanism more complicated than Toothless' tail fin? Go head and ask me what I was working on before I came back... oh, wait, it might involve quantum and I wouldn't want to hurt your little brain,” Jack retorted in a vicious manner.

Hiccup seethed at the mention of the word.

“So can we just drop this argument and agree we need to move the fight with Etuchaand to someplace else?” The Guardian asked and did not wait for the Viking to fire another volley at him.

“And where did you have mind in since you obviously already picked out a place without discussing it with anyone, Isemaler?” Hiccup asked with considerable sarcasm and the invocation of the Spirit of Winter Joy's name hit it's mark.

Jack ground his teeth together and said: “The Finger of the Gods.”

Hiccup sat back in his chair, blinked a few times, and said in a normal voice: “That's actually a good idea. I would've picked it myself.”

“Glad I found a place that meets with your approval.”

“Great Odin, can't you give it a rest for one minute?”

“I'm not the one who started the argument between us,” Jack replied in a low tone. “And I'm tired of feeling like dung over a situation you don't want to talk about, so maybe you can see why I'm a little angry.”

“I explained twice why I left, and I noticed you never bothered to bring up any of that,” Hiccup challenged. 

“Oh, right. How do you expect me to just quit being a Guardian? There's no magic words I can say that'll suddenly take the power out of me. What part of it's part of me don't you get?”

“The part where you never even asked to just be mortal here,” the Viking quickly asserted. “You've had ten years to ask your Father Moon to let you be normal.”

“You know he's got more important issues to deal with, right?” Jack flatly and rhetorically asked.

“My issues are just as important to me as his are to him! Besides, what about Noro? What about The Breathless One? They were there. Can't you get all three of them together again?”

“It's not like calling a council meeting, Hiccup.”

“They seemed to do it easily enough the last time. Noro just asked for Elada to show up and he did. Then they called A... The breathless One, and he or whatever it is appeared, so it's a lot like calling a council meeting!” The Viking rumbled.

Jack bit the side of his mouth. He never quite knew how the three grand immortals managed to converge in the same place at the same time. Moreover, he could not deduce where they held the meeting. It never felt or seemed like Earth or Halla. After all, he got called last to attend.

“That's what makes me maddest, Jack. You didn't even try. You never even thought about trying. You just expected me to put up with all this going back and forth to Earth crap... all the garbage with Isemaler, and I never got a say about any of it. Well, I don't accept it anymore. Either you're here all the time as a mortal or you're not. If you can't do it, then you might as well...” and Hiccup halted before he said the last bit.

Jack listened, and he actually did understand. He both empathized and sympathized, but he still thought Hiccup did not take then entire situation into consideration. If the Viking respected the work Isemaler did on Halla and truly respected what Jack did on Earth, then he should understand why giving up the power became a dead point. At the same time, he privately acknowledge he never did ask any of the higher powers to make him fully mortal. It made him wonder if they could.

“What if they can't, Hiccup? What if I ask and they say they can't because what happened over three hundred years ago fundamentally altered me? Do you reject me then knowing I can never be separated from my powers or being a Guardian?” Jack rejoined, and he started to fear the answers Hiccup might give.

Hiccup lowered his eyes and started at the uneaten food on the table. He could not deny he knew about Jack's nature from the very beginning. At the time, at the start, it seemed so exciting and exotic to know a creature like Jack. It came as thrill to learn the immortal elemental young man loved him. Over the years, however, reality started to exert itself. It became quite clear the deal they got from the god-like beings fell heavily in favor of one side. It rankled Hiccup.

“It's not a rejection, Jack. I just can't live with it anymore,” Hiccup quietly confessed again.

“But you know from the beginning what I was?” The Guardian used the question as a protest.

“Yeah, I know, but... did I really understand? No, and neither did you,” the Viking countered. “When I got to see you on your world, that's when I started to realize how much it really is a part of you. I... sometimes I felt bad for you here because you couldn't be what you are.”

“I never complained, and you didn't need to feel bad.”

“I only said sometimes. I haven't felt that in years.”

The hardness in Hiccup's voice said much more than the actual words. 

“So what are you saying is going to happen to us? Our relationship?” Jack as in a much steadier voice than he thought he could manage.

“I don't know, Jack, honestly,” Hiccup said and raised his face. His green eyes looked troubled. “But my mom is right: we've got to figure out how to get rid of Etuchaand first. If that thing wins, then... there won't be any us to even think about.”

Jack hated to admit the truth of the statement, so he nodded his head and said: “That... you're right. Okay, so we've got to stop making all this so... personal. We actually need to listen to each other if this is going to work.”

“Can you?” The Viking quickly asked.

“Can you?” The Guardian countered.

Hiccup's lips curled inward. He saw in that instant neither of them wanted to give an inch for whatever reason. It also became clear neither of them should be in charge of the project because of their extreme emotional involvement on so many levels. An idea sparked in his brain.

“Jack, what if we put Fishlegs in charge and let him make all the final decisions? He understands the plans probably as good as you do... and he's making the gronckle iron,” Hiccup supplied what to him seemed to be the most viable option.

Jack opened his mouth to argue against the suggestion, but one bit of his brain seized on the idea much faster than his emotions could react. Both he and Hiccup trusted Fishlegs' judgment, even if the man could get into a serious dither at times. Of all the people on the island, Fishlegs alone seemed to comprehend the entire scope of the device designed by the yeti. A distracting side thought took over for a moment when Jack considered the fact that if anyone deserved to meet and speak with the yeti it would be Fishlegs. In that instant, the Guardian pictured his stout Viking friend as a hairless yeti. It also confirmed the notion.

“Agreed,” Jack said and nodded his head. “Do we give him full control?”

“Do we have a choice?” Hiccup said, but not in an argumentative manner.

“No, I guess we don't.”

The looked at each other. Although they would not say it aloud, each felt a vague sense of relief once they agreed. First, it simply felt nice to agree on something, anything, without a protracted fight. Second, it allowed each of them to focus on their individual strengths and how it applied to the project. Once they accepted the compromise, it suddenly seemed irrational they did not think of it from the beginning.

“We'd better go tell them now... and probably make an apology,” Jack suggested.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Hiccup affirmed.

“Maybe they'll give us a sandwich.”

“Doubtful. Highly doubtful.”

From the moment Fishlegs took charge, everything seemed to go into overdrive. Of course, no spoke aloud their sense of relief at not having to face the fighting couple and getting dragged in thinly veiled personal arguments. Moreover, Fishlegs took a decidedly different view of the project than either Hiccup or Jack. He approached it like a puzzle needing to be fit together in an intricate manner. On one hand he saw the need for well-crafted pieces, but on the other he saw that getting close enough to the basic shape would good enough given all the constraints. Not only did the brilliant Viking strike a middle ground, he did so with his own method that removed both Hiccup and Jack to a safe distance emotionally, physically, and psychologically.

“We fly the pieces out at night,” Fishlegs said two days before the next full moon after six days of non-stop, sunrise-to-sunrise work. “Assemble what we can and then come back.”

They conducted a closed-door meeting in the forge. Fartbritches showed a surprisingly adept skill at using the giant stone anvil and hammer, and his years of making mistakes helped him avoid making new ones as the doughnut-shaped collection chamber got pounded into existence. Valka and Groanhilde looked on with questions in their eyes.

“Are we five enough to get this done in time?” His wife asked and glanced at the assembled.

“Hiccup has the skill and Jack knows the overall function. I'll provide some muscle and a hammer,” the man listed the current assets. “It's not a huge: just heavy. It's going to take all three dragons to fly the coil to the island ‘cause that thing is heavier than a pack of hotburples.”

“It's four hours there and four back,” Hiccup reminded him. “That's a full night right there.”

“What if I get a few of the other riders to fly some of the parts half way?” Valka suggested. “Cloudjumper and I will stay with the pieces until you move them Finger island.”

The three men glanced at one another, but then Hiccup and Jack looked to Fishlegs.

“Not a bad idea, Valka,” the project leader said with a curt bob of his head. “If the Guardian box parts and the coil housing make it that far, it would be a huge savings in time.”

“Consider it done,” the senior dragon woman in a confident manner. “If Farb is finished with the ring chamber, then I'll get a few riders to move that as well.”

“No, that'll look suspicious,” Fishlegs retorted and caught everyone by surprise. “I had to tell people I changed my mind and was working on a new grain chute idea when it didn't look anything like a silo. I'll fly those myself today to the Finger island. It won't look unusual if me and Meatlug haul it around.”

“Good thinking,” Jack murmured.

“So tonight we'll finish transporting all the parts, and tomorrow we'll put it together. Don't know how we're going to test it...”

“Goorah knew we wouldn't have time to test it. She made a small scale model and told me it worked in her lab,” Jack told them and not for the first time. “That's the best we're going to get for testing if we want to try this during the full moon.”

Hiccup nodded, frowned, and glanced at Jack before he said: “Do we even know where Etuchaand is?”

Jack surveyed the four people surrounding the small work table. They each looked normal in appearance, dressed in everyday clothes none would find suspicious, but he saw the dark circles under their eyes that spoke of nights spent building instead of sleeping. Groanhilde supplied the most surprises of late. She got Mouldy to show her how to wrap wire around hilt grips, and then undertook creating the two coils with the thousands of feet of wire Hiccup and Snotlout extruded. She worked carefully and under the watchful eye of her husband. Fishlegs confessed she did a much better job than he could expect from himself. When Hiccup and Jack examined it, both men gazed at the rightfully proud woman with stunned gratitude. Hence, she earned her tired expression. Valka spent hours and hours diverting people's attention from the real purpose of the project, often forgoing her usual routines to do so. The each labored deep into the night and often woke before dawn.

“I've been thinking about that,” Jack piped up. “Isemaler's been in hiding for over a month now...”

“Got to give him credit,” Hiccup interjected without a trace of sarcasm.

“Yeah, we do. He's been grumbling about feeling the belief in him eroding down south. It's full winter there, and... Isemaler is not enjoying fading out of sight.”

“But he's safe,” Valka intoned.

“Yes, and that's how we lure Etuchaand out into the open,” Jack told her. Four sets of eyes stayed glued to him. “We fly Isemaler to the island and keep him surrounded...”

“And how to we do we do that?” Groanhilde grunted the question.

“We fly in box formation, using the dragons to help shield him. We'll fly tight to keep him guarded, but I think we can do it.”

“When?” Fishlegs asked the follow up.

“Six hours before moonrise on the full moon day.”

“And then?” Hiccup asked, but seemed purely inquisitive.

“Then we open a small gap in his living shield. Close it. Open it again. Close it...”

“A beacon,” Fishlegs immediately intuited the idea.

Jack grinned and nodded. He liked begin able to discuss ideas in meetings without getting into a tangle with Hiccup. From his observations, Hiccup felt the same.

“So we give Etuchaand just a... taste of Isemaler, but not enough to give it a chance to do anything. That creature will have to show up to find out what is going on. Nice,” the senior dragon rider summarized the general gist of the plan.

“But do we know it will work?” Valka supplied the next logical question.

“I really think it will,” Jack answered. “When Etuchaand feels that vortex open, and it'll think I'm leaving Halla for good.”

“And how do we get Aletha to go into the trap?” Fishlegs took another turn questioning him.

“I'll be ready to travel, and the transfer will start on its own. Etuchaand'll come chasing after me to try and stop that from leaving. That's when Isemaler shoves it from behind to get it into the trap.”

“Does Isemaler know this?” Hiccup inquired and skepticism returned to his voice.

“We'll explain it to him on the flight there. He's knows what's at stake, so I'm pretty confident Isemaler will agree. He's fighting for his life... after life... existence. That should be reason enough,” Jack concluded on that topic.

“Jack,” Fishlegs quietly said his name. “That vortex... isn't it a one-way trip? Won't that mean you'll get stuck on Earth, too?”

The Guardian slowly shook his head and said: “There is a debt I have to pay here on Halla, and the collector of that debt will make sure I'm around to pay it.”

Everyone except Hiccup looked slightly confused. Hiccup went pale. Eyes turned toward him.

“He means The Breathless One... Death,” Hiccup half-whispered and shuddered a little bit.

“One does not cheat Death,” Jack said and tried to think of the person on Earth he quoted. “At least not twice.”

“Or thrice,” Fishlegs added.

“Died twice. Came back both times,” Valka quoted and did a passable impersonation of Gobber.

Raising the memory of their departed friend seemed a good omen to Jack. Everyone appeared to be mulling over the plan, and he gave them time to do so. Fishlegs began to bob his head, and that always indicated a favorable view on his part. Valka seemed resigned to it. Groanhilde glanced around and shrugged her shoulders a little. As the newest member of their little group, Jack did not expect her to have fully formed opinions, but her questions regularly proved invaluable. Hiccup alone wore a stern face. The Viking looked from person to person and finally settled on Jack.

“Are you sure you won't get pulled through?” Hiccup inquired in an obviously forced dull tone.

“As sure as anyone one of us can be,” Jack replied. “I really do think Aita will show up to pull me out if there's any chance I couldn't make it back. At the very least Father Moon would send me back to complete my obligation.”

The answer did not satisfy Hiccup, but he let the topic drop. They needed to concentrate on making sure Etuchaand entered the trap and got transported away from Halla. Even though the being only tormented Isemaler at the moment, Jack seemed fairly certain Etuchaand would unleash a wave of destruction on Halla to test it's power and strength. Hiccup finally just nodded his head.

“Okay, it's settled. Everyone knows what to do, so... let's go do it,” Fishlegs exhorted his compatriots.

Fishlegs, Groanhilde, and Valka all departed the workshop. Hiccup began to walk around the drafting table to head toward his section of the smithy. He stopped when he caught Jack staring at him.

“What?” He asked.

“I just... after everything you said, why... I thought you'd want me to get pulled through the vortex,” Jack verbally stumbled as he vocalized his thoughts.

“Dammit, I wish you'd listen to me, Jack!” Hiccup grumbled and shook his head. “That's not at all what I want.”

Jack got no further explanation as Hiccup went to his side of the workshop. Confusion slid through the Guardian's mind as he tried to make sense of what Hiccup might ultimately desire. Given the content of their most intense argument, he got the impression the man would be better served if he simply went away. Hiccup walked to his tool table trying to stem his sense of irritation. He found it hard to fathom Jack would believe for one moment he wanted the Guardian to disappear. In his mind, it simply highlighted the gulf between them, and he struggled to find a way to cross that enormous gap.


	11. Chapter 11

If anyone thought it odd Valka directed dragons and riders to act as a cargo ships, no one said a word. Even the riders themselves did not voice much concern. Years spent watching Fishlegs, Hiccup, and Jack lurch into one plan or scheme after another dulled their suspicions. Hiccup heard a few comments about the continuously non-functioning waterwheel, and he let them assume the worst. Jack heard many of the same remarks. While Hiccup turned out more bolts, fasteners, and strapping for the device, Jack produced blocks and braces. Because the workshop remained relatively peaceful, few people disturbed them.

“Are those for Fishlegs' grain slide thingy him and Fartbritches were making over in the quarry?” Snotlout asked when he stopped in to report on the work he completed even though Jack never requested or required he do so.

“Yeah. Not sure exactly how he's going to attach these, but I made them to order,” Jack replied as if bored and not particularly interested in the details.

Snotlout glanced around and inquired: “Things sure quieted down. I'm kind of glad to tell you the truth. Pulling that wire with Hiccup was not a lot of fun.”

“And we're in your debt, Snotlout. It may not seem like it's important, but making sure an axe or a sword doesn't slip out of someone's hand will save lives. After the Knusehode fight, we learned.”

Jack sighted down the brace in the table vice, and gently slid the plane down it. A thin curl of wood sprang up from the mouth of the tool. He gave it another pass, and then ran his thumb down the length of the piece to check the surface.

“You're really good at that,” Snotlout complimented him.

“All part of joinery. Remember when I showed how to set a shallow blade depth?”

The man nodded, and his gray-black hair shifted from side to side.

“This is the reason why,” Jack stated and held aloft one of the waste curls. “If you go too deep, the blade just skips across the surface taking out chunks and making an uneven run.”

“So what's on the schedule now this other emergency stuff is finished?” His friend seemed satisfied with the short lesson and switched topics.

“Got a lot of furniture to fix for Fleck. Part of the bargain for the big anvil and hammer.”

“Any carving work? Most of my commissions are done.”

“I'll ask, and I'll make certain Fleck knows its not part of the trade,” Jack promised.

“Appreciated,' Snotlout quietly said and paused for a second. “Um... could you, ah, maybe get Hiccup or Fishlegs or Valka to stop by and take a look at Heeboo?”

“She's not hurt, is she?” The Guardian quickly became concerned.

“No, no. It's just, well, see, it's only been me who's looked after her and, to be honest, I don't remember much of the first two or three weeks. I think a second opinion might help,” the former dragon rider hesitantly inquired.

“Oh, sure. You know you can ask yourself and they'll probably say yes.”

“I don't know. Hiccup's been kind of moody the last couple of weeks, and I don't really know Valka all that well. Fishlegs probably thinks I'm still a...”

“I'm certain everyone knows by now you've laid off the mead, Snotlout,” Jack instantly interjected. “I don't think you realize how much people are talking about your carving work. I personally thing Fishlegs might be glad if you approached him on your own.”

“Sounds like Hiccup never told you about what went on at Dragon's Edge. I wasn't real nice to Fishlegs on a lot of occasions. After the battle and... all that, I never spoke to him again. I mean, yeah, I was pretty much stupid drunk, but... he kept his distance. Can't say as I blame him,” Snotlout explained.

“Listen to me, and I know this for a fact: Fishlegs couldn't face you after Hookfang got murdered,” and Jack watched the man flinch at the name. “Your loss became very personal to him, and he could never find a way to say what he wanted. Once you started drinking that sort of put a kink in things. Go talk to him when he's free, Snotlout, and you'll be surprised to find a sympathetic ear.”

“Yeah, maybe I will,” the man said in a tiny voice.

“Trust that he's still your friend regardless of the last ten years.”

Snotlout silently nodded.

“Come on. There's a plane over there and a brace that needs truing. I could use a hand and you could use the practice,” Jack shifted them onto a different track. Some wounds, he saw, never fully healed.

Hiccup only caught a glimpse of Snotlout talking to Jack as he worked on making rivets. He knew he needed to do something special for his old friend to repay the hours and hours of backbreaking toil he suffered making the wire for the coils. He could not blame the man for avoiding the smithy for a short while. Snotlout liked the feel of wood grain under his hands and not metal. As he heated slugs to make more rivets, he watched Jack and Snotlout converse for a moment. He liked the way in which Jack befriended the man and the easy partnership they developed. Moreover, the fact he helped the dragonless rider find a way to become productive seemed miraculous regardless of Jack claims Snotlout actually did him the favor. That alone earned high marks with a number of people, Hiccup included, for the Guardian.

That evening Hiccup bagged the myriad of small parts needed to assemble the vortex trap. He made certain to make plenty of extra pieces to be safe. He headed off to the dragon caves to get a few hours of sleep before he, Fishlegs, and Jack flew the coil to The Finger of the Gods island. Fishlegs checked in several times to inform him of the preparation progress. He also advised, somewhat needlessly, that Hiccup and Jack use their heavy cargo harnesses on their dragons. As he shut down the forge for the night, he saw Jack and Snotlout complete the last stabilizing blocks. Hiccup wanted to say something, but he simply let them work and hoped Jack would remember to get some sleep. They all put in a very long day.

The unique transformer coil sat behind the Ingerman house. Groanhilde covered it with several blankets to both protect it and keep snooping eyes from finding out too much. Hiccup and Toothless arrived to find the woman all but crocheting rope around the device. He saw her scan a piece of paper and instantly knew she attempted to follow Fishlegs' explicit instructions. The woman frowned.

“Does that look right?” Groanhilde asked when Hiccup dismounted and walked over.

He grabbed a torch and walked around what Jack and Fishlegs said constituted the heart of the trap. The lashing and knots, while seeming simple, created an intricate lattice around the heavy piece currently supported by several stumps of wood to keep it off the ground. After three passes, Hiccup stood and went back stand next to her.

“We might actually have a problem taking it off the coil,” he told her and smiled.

“Ugh, Fishlegs and his directions,” she huffed.

“Well, you did a better job than I ever could,” Hiccup offered another compliment. “And before we take off, I can't thank you enough for everything you've done, Groanhilde. The whole situation probably scared the scales off you.”

The woman regarded him for a moment, her eyes glittered in the torch light, and she said: “At first it did. Not easy finding out all these invisible people are all over the place, but I like Isemaler. He obnoxious and bratty and tries to create havoc wherever he goes... and I guess that's perfect for what he's supposed to do.”

“Hadn't thought of it that way in a long time, but you're right.”

“And Jack... I know you can't really see it right now ‘cause of everything ‘tween you two, but he's a good person... and kind... and funny. Can't quite see him as Isemaler, but I know it's got to be in him somewhere. I trust him, Hiccup. Hope you can see your way to trusting him again, too.”

“I don't disagree with anything you just said,” Hiccup told her and he meant it. “Once this whole Etuchaand nonsense is over, we'll take time to try and talk things out. There's a couple of big issues, but... who knows? There might be an answer somewhere.”

“Hope so, and do you think we can really do this with Etuchaand?” The woman asked with no small amount of real worry.

“Fishlegs and Jack think so, and so does my mom. Maybe confidence is part of the plan. I just keep thinking of all the things that could go wrong...”

“And the man sleeping in that house – the one I need to go wake up – says that's what makes you such a good leader. You're always thinking about all the angles,” Groanhilde said in a fierce tone. “You may not know this, but you and Jack think a lot alike when it comes to making plans. You both worry ‘bout details, ‘cept Jack seems settled once he's thought it through.”

“He's not afraid to wing it, Groanhilde, and it can be terrifying.”

“You're still here, right?”

“And you're point?” Hiccup challenged.

“My point is sometimes you need a person who doesn't mind when things get chaotic. Some people actually like that better. Ever meet my sister Grindhind? She's the exact same way. Drove our ma and pa right over the yak's side ‘til she got married, but it always worked out for her. Still does,” she told him and drifted in memories at the end.

“Yeah, I've seen her manage that brood of kids she's got. The baby basket is kind of brilliant.”

“Grindhind thought of that in flash. Ma thought she was daft, but look how many other mothers are using one now!”

Hiccup nodded.

“That was Jack does, I think. He improvises.”

“That he does, Groanhilde. More than you can even guess.”

“Ever think maybe that's part of his plan? Could be what made him successful at being Isemaler on his world,” she asked and briefly elaborated in a thoughtful manner.

“Part of his plan,” Hiccup mumbled and then stared at her. “Never quite viewed it like that. You've got a knack for asking good questions, know that?”

“My ma always said I'd never find a man ‘cause everything I'd end up asking him. Never thought I'd wind up with an Ingerman, but Fishlegs... he doesn't mind the questions and kind of likes ‘em really.”

IceSpike came winging over the house like a silent pale ghost and banked into a neat turn. She aimed for the same area where Toothless waited and back-winged to such a degree she almost fell out of the air. The dragon did not and floated downward in a deft display. Hiccup mentally acknowledged Jack could fly with the best of the riders and showed real skill. Of course, the man started flying over three hundred years before, so it seemed logical he would rely on instinctual understanding of flight.

“That's a strange package,” Jack said after dismounting and walking up to he duo.

“All Groanhilde's handiwork... and I'm including the coils,” Hiccup earnestly said.

“Push off, you,” the woman demurred. She turned on a heel and faced the house. “Meatlug! Wake him!”

Her shout barely ended when they heard a clattering from inside the building. Ten seconds later they could heard Fishlegs yelling at Meatlug to back off. The three smirked as they waited. The thunderous footsteps of the dragon echoed and each could imagine Meatlug pushed Fishlegs around. Just about a minute after Groanhilde hailed Meatlug, a harried-looking Fishlegs came stumbling out of the rear entrance. His clothes looked askew and he did not seem entirely awake as the gronckle nudged him forward with her nose.

“Alright, alright! I'm moving,” the blonde-haired man complained to the dragon. “Give a guy a break already!”

Meatlug did not and kept shoving him in the direction of Groanhilde. If anything proved the woman and the dragon formed a tight bond, Meatlug's willingness to respond to commands from Groanhilde illustrated the point. Man and beast slowly advanced on the trio.

“You put her up to this, didn't you?” Fishlegs accused his wife.

“Of course I did,” Groanhilde gamely confessed. “You should've got up when I first tried to wake you. Now you'll have to eat while you fly.”

“No hot breakfast?” The stoutest of the male Viking moaned.

“Should've got up when I asked.”

Groanhilde clearly did not make or take excuses for or from Fishlegs. Meatlug trotted over to where the other two dragons waited, and the three greeted one another with obvious affection and respect. In the meanwhile, the people turned to the coil.

“She tied it up into a pretty package,” Hiccup said before Fishlegs could speak. “That chunk of metal engineering isn't going to fall as long as the dragons can fly.”

“Thank you, my sweets,” Fishlegs said and leaned over to give his wife a peck on the cheek.

“Just looking forward to some sleep,” she groggily said. “Once you're in the air, you're on your own.”

“Well, night is slinking away, so we'd better get moving,” Jack chimed in and pulled out a folded sheet of paper he then unfolded. “Everyone familiar with the route?”

Hiccup took the sheet while Fishlegs said: “Valka is waiting for us at the mid-way point. Did you know she got the riders to move everything?”

“Who's gonna say no to her?” Groanhilde rhetorically inquired. “And didn't she say she would? When has Valka ever not lived up to her word?”

Once more Groanhilde displayed her talent for asking questions that got straight to the point. Since no one could argue against her, the men called their dragons over and they began the process of connecting the sturdy ropes to the cargo harnesses. Hiccup checked the lashings to make certain the correct knots got used because none of them wanted the coil to drop into the sea and possibly take a dragon or two with it. In the meanwhile, Groanhilde brought out food for her husband and, because of her gracious nature, some for Hiccup and Jack as well. It took half an hour to complete the process, during which time each got the chance to eat, before the riders sat astride the dragons.

“Fairs winds and a clear horizon to you,” Groanhilde gave her version of dragon rider send off. “Come back safe, Fishlegs. Now I'm going to bed!”

She spun in place and marched toward the house before anyone could issue a command to take flight. The men glanced at one another and grinned. Hiccup slowly raised his arm. Fishlegs and Jack sat more upright in their saddles. After one final look at the two other riders spaced evenly around the coil, Hiccup slowly descended his arm.

“Up, Toothless, and slow,” Hiccup gave the command to his dragon.

“Easy up, Meatlug,” Fishlegs issued his order.

“IceSpike, up slow,” Jack stated, following suit.

The three dragons extended their wings. Unlike most times when the prepared themselves for a quick launch into the air, the winged creatures began to beat their wings at a gradual pace. It took a moment before they synchronized their motions. Then, on their own, they began to exert more force. The dragons lifted in an uncommon vertical takeoff that required an inordinate amount of skill. Almost as one the three ropes stretched outward and became taut. The dragons hovered for a moment.

“Up!” Hiccup called out. For while Fishlegs might be the project leader, no one took Hiccup's place as the senior dragon rider.

Jack felt IceSpike begin to strain as she applied more energy to her wings. It seemed to him as though she might not be able to haul the heavy piece of equipment. He patted her tense neck.

“Just a little bit more,” he urged her.

The dragon complied, and suddenly they shifted to their right toward the center of the mass. Jack correct her flying angle and leveled out with Toothless and Meatlug who also required flight corrections. Little by little they began to inch upward as the three dragons began to figure out for themselves how best to carry the load. The riders offered encouragement. Ever so slowly the heavy and large parcel rose into the air. After half a minute they climbed above the peak of house. Following another thirty seconds they cleared the tree line. Once another interval passed, they trio of dragons achieved full flight clearance. Hiccup raised his arm again. The two men and dragons paid strict attention to it.

“So far so good,” Hiccup called. “Now forward!”

His arm with an open hand pointing upward sliced downward until it reached a forty-five degree angle. The dragons responded in unison, adjusted their wing planes, and the group began to fly forward as instructed. As cumbersome as the coil appeared, once airborne and flying in a north by northeasterly direction, the dragons did not feel as though they strained to carry the load. They sailed over the island of Berk and aimed for the open water. The three riders knew that once over the ocean, air currents would shift and they would need to achieve a higher altitude in order to take advantage of the up-wellings coming from the summer-heated waters. Thus, all other thoughts got put to the side as the men transformed into a flying team both with their dragons and one another.

Two hours seemed to pass by without notice. Focusing on the performance of the dragons, and ensuring they did not exceed their limits, kept the mind busy. The riders also scanned the sea below for landmarks and possible threats. The task became tricky as the nearly full moon tended to wash out colors and leave some areas a uniform dark gray. Despite the few clouds, the night remained calm and the winds even. Both Hiccup and Jack privately wondered if the greater powers of Halla chose not to interfere and perhaps lend marginal assistance with their efforts. After all, Etuchaand could pose as big a threat to them. The notion occupied their minds for a short duration.

“Ho!” Fishlegs yelled sounding more like a sailor than a dragon rider. “Light at ninety! Light at ninety!”

Early on Jack explained how a divided circle got used to show arc degrees and, in turn, could be used like a compass. A small group calculated the circumference of Halla, the length of the day, and the length of time it took for the planet to rotate around the sun, the numbers became – as Hiccup said – increasingly hairy. In the end they opted for simplified circle of degrees starting at zero, or double-aught as Jack called it, and terminating at the same point designated as one hundred. Hence, double-aught degrees meant north; fifty indicated south; with twenty-five pointing east; and seventy-five due west. Thus, Fishlegs called their attention to the northeast.

“Lights down below. I think it's the waypoint island,” the man improbably staying aloft on a gronckle yelled out to them.

Hiccup used the hands signs to coordinate the group in a slight bank to the north and to begin descent. Trained fliers, and one who knew flight on an intimate and personal level, cleanly executed the maneuvers as if they practiced. As they dropped lower, the outline of the small island came into relief. They reached their first destination and resting point. Fishlegs already informed the other two that the wider eastern side of the island got cleared so they could comfortably land the dragons and cargo. With the knowledge already in mind, Hiccup directed his friends in the landing procedure.

“How is the my little girl?” Fishlegs immediately coddled Meatlug the moment he slid off the saddle.

Hiccup and Jack each tended to their dragon, but with a less gooey emotional display.

“How's she look?” Hiccup asked after IceSpike.

“Doesn't seem any worse for the flight,” Jack replied. “I don't feel any trembling muscles, her breathing is even, and she doesn't show any sign of strain.”

“Woolly howls are pretty sturdy,” Hiccup said as he carefully scratched around her head. His hands bore a few scars from where he accidentally lacerated himself on her head scales.

“Toothless looks good,” Jack returned the compliment.

“Yeah, he's fine.”

Although the statement by definition would seem mildly dismissive, the echo of pride on Hiccup's could not be missed.

“Come on, boys,” Valka's voice called to them from the spot of light not far away. “Got some baskets of fresh-caught fish for the dragons and a pot stew set to simmer for you three.”

Once the dragons buried their heads in the baskets of fish, the four people sat around a small fire under the watchful eyes of Cloudjumper. The stormcutter dragon explained why a lone woman stood watch over the island. Few dared tangle with that type of dragon.

“I've flown about a quarter of the load to The Finger already,” Valka to them as they settled down to eat the stew she prepared. “Ran out of daylight, so I set the beacon and came back here.”

“Thanks, Mom... for all of this,” Hiccup said with genuine affection and gratitude.

“I'll do what I can to see that thing off our world.”

“Well, we're running on schedule, and that's a good thing. If the weather holds, we'll be ready,” Fishlegs gave his assessment.

“Oh, um, I... sort of altered the full moon day schedule,” Jack said in a sheepish manner and saw it as a good chance to explain. “It's nothing big, but I think we should leave at mid-day. It'll give us a buffer of a few hours to make sure everything is set up.”

“I was thinking you were cutting it kind of close,” Hiccup said, but not with any rancor.

Fishlegs nodded. He shoveled some stew into his mouth, as did Hiccup. Jack took the opportunity to speak without being interrupted.

“My first thought was to leave Etuchaand with as little time as possible to counter our actions. The more I thought about it, the more I realized if anything went wrong, I'd start the change before we got to the trap. I'd rather be on The Finger with Isemaler a good chunk of time before that begins,” the Guardian explained.

“I agree,” Hiccup said around the food in his mouth. “Fishlegs?”

“Sensible precaution,” the largest of the quartet answered after he swallowed. “You do realize that means we're going to have to sit around Isemaler the entire time?”

Jack nodded.

“Between four dragons, me, you three, and Groanhilde, we should be able to shield him,” Valka added.

“Groanhilde? I didn't know she'd be there,” Fishlegs rapidly spoke. “Who said she was going?”

Valka looked at the man and replied: “She did. She asked to fly with me and Cloudjumper since she figured Meatlug would be too loaded with other stuff. I agreed.”

“Do you think that's good idea, Valka?” He rumbled and sounded skeptical.

“Now if you want to tell her she's not welcome after all the work she did on the coil, you go right ahead. Let me know what she thinks.”

Hiccup and Jack wisely stuffed more stew into their mouths.

“Ah... maybe not,” Fishlegs muttered and glanced around. “She did work awfully hard on it.”

“Thought you might see it that way, but I did have a bed ready for you in the dragon caves in case you thought otherwise,” Valka returned in a pleasant tone, yet any who heard her did not hear any pleasantry.

The issue of Groanhilde's attendance got settled in that moment. The foursome discussed the plan for flying the rest of the materials to The Finger of the Gods. Valka said she already planned to spend the night at the waypoint to keep guard over the materials and supplies. Once she said that, Hiccup suggested starting as early as possible the next day. He calculated that with what Valka already transported, it should take no more than two trips to finish transporting the rest. That meant at least eight to ten hours of flying. Valka then suggested they stay the night at the waypoint island instead of returning to Berk. She argued it would save them two hours of flying time that could be added to the build time.

“I don't feel much like sleeping out in the open,” Hiccup said in an attempt to reject the suggestion.

“I brought extra sleeping rolls and three tents ‘cause I knew you'd be using the cargo harnesses instead of regular travel saddles,” Valka told him. “I've already set up the tents, and Groanhilde knows you're staying here, Fishlegs.”

“So that's why she didn't ask me what I want for breakfast,” Fishlegs mused.

“Just sort of one step ahead of us, huh, Mom?” The son asked his mother.

“You've got more than enough on your minds without having to worry about little things like that. Consider it part of my contribution to the effort,” the mother responded.

The issue seemed settled, although Hiccup wondered aloud if anyone would get worried when they did not appear at the workshop the next day. They decided in the end it did not matter. Most would think Hiccup, Jack, and Fishlegs went off to work on the new grain chutes or the waterwheel. By the time they finished their meal and half a flagon of very light ale, the trio felt refreshed. When they tried to help clean up, Valka shooed them away with an admonition they needed to focus on transporting the coil. They returned to their dragons and important cargo.

The trio of dragons and riders performed the same process to lift off as they used when first setting out. Once more the dragons seemed completely capable of the task. In near silence, or at least as silent as flapping dragon wings, they departed the small island with Valka waving to them as they ascended. As before, they settled into a comfortable flight speed at a decent altitude for the last portion of the trip. Hiccup loved night flying. Jack spent most of his immortal life patrolling the night for threats to children. Fishlegs said he missed his wife, his bed, and sleeping. The second leg passed almost as quickly as the first, except they overshot The Finger of the Gods by a little bit and needed to back track.

No living thing ever either accidentally or even voluntarily visited the island. Hiccup saw Fishlegs shudder, and he understood why. Jack simply prepared to feel the energy of the place. The very stone radiated with power, and it felt slightly intelligent. The three dragons glanced around with uncertainty as their riders untied them from the large bundle. They did not remove the sling from the device as they would need it for the final placement of the coil. While they tarried as Fishlegs and Hiccup inspected the piece to make certain it did not sustain damage, Jack stood in wonder. He knew why mortal things avoided the location: it resonated with hints of things they did not understand and should likely fear. He, himself, did not. Hence, the coil would be safe as it sat unguarded on the flat portion of the spire. 

“Jack!” Hiccup loudly said and snapped him out his reverie. “Ready to head out?”

“I could stay here if it came right down to it,” Jack intoned in a rather distant fashion.

“You'd be here by yourself then,” Fishlegs mumbled and searched the empty plateau. “This place give me the creeps.”

“It does feel weird,” Hiccup seconded his friend, “and I don't feel like sleeping on bare stone. Stay if you want, but I'm heading back to a tent and a pillow.”

“Okay, okay. Give me a second to get mounted,” Jack rejoined.

Hiccup watched the man. He swore Jack looked paler under the moon light. It only took a few seconds while the Earthling prepared, but Hiccup could not help but consider the man he continued to love lived a life on Halla cut-off from part of himself. Even though resentment lingered at what he got forced to accept, Hiccup found it difficult to imagine himself giving up his life on Halla to go live on another world, especially if it meant letting go of Toothless. Watching Jack feeling the effects of the inherent power of The Finger made Hiccup think of their interpersonal issues in a larger context.

“Alright, let's fly,” Jack said as he attacked the last buckle on his flying belt. IceSpike waggled her body to settle the weight.

They awoke in the morning under a gray sky and waves crashing against the edge of the island. Three men and a woman stood and studied the northern sky. A cooler wind blew in overnight, and it appeared to bring rain with it. Instead of commenting, the people struck camp, folding blankets and tents, and storing it all in oil-cloth sacks before any serious rainfall could ensue. Valka then assisted with organizing the materials for easier transport. All the while they kept an eye to sky wondering when the clouds would open up and they would get drenched. It threatened their plan for the morning. Thus, they hurried as much as they could.

“Okay, Mom, thanks again. I think we got it from here,” Hiccup said to her when everything sat in neat piles sorted by size and weight.

“I'm not going anywhere except to The Finger,” Valka tartly rejoined. “Cloudjumper is bigger than any of your dragons, and he's feeling fresh after a day of rest.”

Jack tried to hide his grin as Hiccup gaped at his mother. The man obviously thought the woman would head back to Berk and leave the hauling to them. Time after time for ten years Valka continued to both impress and surprise Jack with her independence and obstinate resiliency. She stood up to her willful son on many, many occasions. It reminded the Guardian anew where the Viking with whom he fell in love got his convictions and strength of mind. The son resembled the mother in so many ways Jack sometimes could not tell what he got from his father. Of course, stories told by Fishlegs and the Thorston twins, along with half the Berkians, tended to fill in the blank spots for Jack. However, no one would deny the majority of Hiccup's genes came from his mother.

“This, uh, changes things,” Hiccup muttered.

“I should hope so,” Valka quipped in a flinty manner.

“So... um, how much did Cloudjumper lift in one flight?”

“Did you see what was already on the finger?”

Hiccup nodded.

“He flew that with ease,” she told him as if he lost his senses.

“Think he could fly all the Guardian box plates in one go?” Hiccup inquired after wincing from her rejoinder and pointed to the six shining plates.

“It's not nearly as heavy as regular iron or steel, so it won't pose a problem at all. Too easy in fact.”

“Oh, really? Would the coil housing fit on Cloudjumper's back?”

Valka looked at the thick-walled cylinder made of normal steel. It stood a third the height of her son and could accommodate two Fishlegs standing abreast. Hiccup estimated it likely weighed twice as much as the Guardian box plates combined, if not somewhat more. Sitting atop the Guardian box, the housing would collect and feed energy into the primary coil from all sides that then would be transferred to the secondary coil and into the storage ring. The storage ring, something Jack called a doughnut, would be fit with a piece he called a manifold – an amalgam of strangely configured pipes – that would concentrate and channel the energy into the globe connector. This would power the vortex. While he mentally reviewed the assembly and operation of the device, his mother started to bob her head.

“We can carry that without breaking much of a sweat,” Valka casually assured him.

“Gods, that would be great. I thought it would take Toothless and IceSpike together to move it,” Hiccup sighed with relief. “It also means only one trip to The Finger. We can pack the rest on our three dragons.”

“Don't over exert them, Hiccup. Four dragons made two trips to bring it all here.”

“And you moved a quarter of it yesterday... the smaller stuff, sure, but that means we can distribute what's left between us four. Let's see that's three-quarters of the original load divided by four dragons... except the housing counters as more than a quarter of the remaining load...”

“It's less than twenty percent for the rest of us,” Fishlegs said where he and the Guardian stood off to one side letting mother and son come to an arrangement.

“That was fast,” Jack complimented his friend.

“I like numbers,” the stout Viking said with duly justified pride.

“See?” Hiccup said as he wheeled around to face Valka. “We can do this one trip. Assembly won't take that long, and we might make it home before full dark!”

Valka scrutinized the three men wearing their lightweight summer flight gear, just as she wore. Visually it looked much like the other suits of flying armor, but extra openings and perforations meant they would not sweat to death in the hot, humid conditions. Hiccup guessed his mother's thinking. She worried they overextended themselves during the furious race to complete fabrication of the trap before the full moon and with at least three days to spare. He knew Fishlegs slept very little in the previous three weeks, and he did not get much more. Jack got the most rest out of all of them, even perhaps more than Snotlout who worked in two disciplines. However, Hiccup spent a fitful night on the waypoint island, and he felt very rested. He met his mother's gaze with a bright, clean one of his own.

“That would be nice,” Valka ruminated. “Would mean we get another fresh start tomorrow.”

“Then it's settled. Let's load up!” Hiccup called to the others.

The four dragon riders spent two hours loading their beasts with the cargo. Hiccup and Jack saw to placing the heavy coil housing on Cloudjumper's back, the largest of the four dragons. The stormcutter did not appear to struggle under the size or weight. Once all the rest of the supplies got securely lashed to the other dragons, with Toothless and IceSpike each adorned with half the hollow steel doughnut and Meatlug bearing the Guardian box, they completed one last inspection. After everyone agreed it seemed safe, the foursome set off for The Finger of the Gods island under a mantle of thick clouds.

Rain sprinkled twice during the trip, but did not result in a storm. Given the amount of metal each dragon carried, Jack worried about lightning. Any strike might kill one or more them as they flew along. Yet the Thunder Queen seemed in a forgiving mood that day. By the time they reached the island, the clouds began to thin to a hazy gray. Seeing as they could not depend on the mercurial nature of the Blikse'fey, they quickly unloaded and carefully laid the parts of the trap around one end of The Finger under Fishleg's direction. He then stood and stared at the mass of pieces.

“Okay,” Fishlegs whispered while wrapped in his own thoughts. Then he pulled a thick wad of folded paper out of one of his many pockets and unfolded it. “Box, housing... bracing... set the coil... place the ring... attach the manifold... tighten everything down.”

“In that order?” Hiccup inquired with mild sarcasm.

“Give or take,” the appointed project leader nobly stated.

“How about if one team assembles the box and another puts together the doughnut and the manifold?” Jack suggested.

“Good idea, Jack. You and Valka work on the doughnut while me and Hiccup tackle the box,” Fishlegs agreed and made assignments. “This isn't a race, so work toward completion and not speed!”

Given the nature of Vikings, it proved a salient warning. Much to the mild surprise of everyone, Fishlegs began to produce sheets of plans from his assorted pockets. It meant they would not try to build from memory, but according the schematics the yeti sketched. It made Hiccup and Jack feel much calmer. Thus, well armed with the plans, they set to work. Jack realized Fishlegs kept him from working with Hiccup and Hiccup with his mother, and it seemed the wisest course. Hiccup eventually reached the same conclusion when he and Fishlegs experienced a few tense moments while trying to decipher the plans and build the Guardian box that would support a tremendous amount of weight. No wanted Jack's immaterial body to get trapped under a collapsed device. They assembled the parts with an attention to detail and due care.

When the dragons finished setting the heavy coil housing, coil, and storage doughnut, and Valka's presence became vitally important as she guided the flying trio, they set about securing the entire device. Hiccup and Valka attached the lashing and bolted everything together while Jack and Fishlegs set the braces and manifold, and then made small but crucial adjustments. They also assisted with making sure all the connections got properly tightened. When they got finished, the group stood several feet away and examined their handiwork. The cleverly contrive device appeared ridiculously simple.

“Doesn't look like much,” Fishlegs said in a somewhat disappointed tone.

It looked like a box with a short cylinder sticking out to the top to which a giant doughnut lay horizontally atop that. In side of cylinder and below the doughnut, the coil rested and would step-up the energy that flowed out of Jack. Despite the weeks of construction, and arguing, the trap did not appear at all impressive.

“The yeti always aim for simplicity,” Jack told him. “They like clean lines. Phyllis constantly says that overt complexity is an invitation for unexpected problems. Hurphamph loru-goram.”

“What was that?” Valka exclaimed and stared at Jack.

“The actual language of the yeti,” Hiccup answered first. “Strange, huh?”

“Sounds like he's talking with a mouth stuff with wool,” Fishlegs commented and grinned.

“That's... well, that's about right when it comes to the yeti,” Jack said and shrugged. He got so used to speaking the language it started to sound natural too him.

“So that's the trap?” Hiccup asked as he stared at it.

“Minus the vortex globe... and the vortex itself,” the Guardian corrected.

“So you just lay inside the box, and then it collects your energy as you begin to transform...”

“Nope,” Jack interjected. “It collects the energy from the transport. Far more than I can generate on my own. The coil will amplify it...”

“But what about the overall level of power?” Hiccup broke into the explanation and asked.

“That's why we need time. From what I can tell, it'll concentrate energy at a one-to-four ratio.”

“So you're normal two minute transformation will take eight,” Fishlegs spoke the calculation allowed.

“Give or take. Even the yeti weren't sure of the overall conversion rate.”

“So we need to protect Isemaler for at least ten minutes while you power the trap?” Valka asked, and her question zeroed in on the central issue.

Jack nodded. The clump of people went from looking at the device to looking at him, and then back to the device. Jack saw Hiccup frown.

“No,” Hiccup said as a dark expression crossed the his face. “We need to protect Jack while he's vulnerable. Etuchaand needs his body. We only need to shield Isemaler so Etuchaand can't find him right away and reveal our location. At least that's how I see how this needs to play out.”

“You're right,” Jack said. “Once I'm in the box and start to transform, I won't be able to protect myself. That's when Etuchaand is going to strike. He can afford to ignore Isemaler at that point.”

“So Isemaler is nothing more than the worm on the hook?” Fishlegs queried as he continued to gaze at the trap.

Three sets of eyes peered at him.


	12. Chapter 12

Jack woke the next morning with a start, and sat up like someone poked him with a sharp stick. IceSpike grunted and cracked an eye open. Man and dragon regarded one another for a moment. Jack shook his head.

“How in himmel are we going to get him out of Thorston Manor?”

IceSpike snorted, but she continued to watch him.

“We're going to have to repeat what we did to get him in there,” Jack continued to talk to himself. “Oh, like that won't be suspicious at all.”

He sat in bed thinking. Each new scenario he imagined became more absurd than the next. Ruffnut and Tuffnut, half-crazy through the two may be, could not be called stupid. Jack forced himself to admit the brother and sister as eccentric rather than insane. However, a group of five adults converging again on their house, and he could not think of a valid reason why they would show up en massed and unannounced, would raise even their thick eyebrows. The problem bothered him enough that he rose and got dressed.

“Come on, girl: we're going to the caves,” he told his winged friend. “Maybe they'll even give us breakfast.”

Jack arrived to find Hiccup and Valka ensconced in her office engaging in a hushed but heated exchange. The walls of the cavern got smoothed over the years as a form of punishment for riders who failed to properly care for their dragons. The two dragon riders wore their summer riding gear, although new sets by the look of it, as they bent their heads together and furiously whispered at each other. Jack knocked at the open door, and then walked in.

“We got a problem,” Hiccup said and sounded flustered.

“You mean the one where we just appear at Thorston Manor and ask if we can swarm inside?” Jack presented his most pressing concern.

Hiccup and Valka seemed stunned.

“How did you...” Hiccup started to say.

“Woke me out of sound sleep a little while ago. Sun's barely on the horizon and here I am worrying about what those two crackpots are going to think about five of us storming their house.”

“It's a problem alright,” Valka agreed. “I was wondering if we could send in a terrible terror and lead Isemaler to us while we wait outside.”

“Their dogs dislike outside dragons and Ruffnut thinks they act as spies for people,” Jack stated the well known and worn conspiracy theory.

“He's not entirely wrong. Gothi used to do that... and I did every once in a while,” Hiccup quietly confessed.

The Guardian frowned at the man. His mother did the same. They regarded one another for a moment. Jack leaned against the doorjamb as he thought.

“Hiccup thinks you should go in there alone under the pretense of needing to check something you repaired to make sure it's holding,” Valka informed him.

“That's not a bad idea,” Jack said as the idea immediately appealed to him. “Getting out will be harder than getting in, though, if I do find something needs to be fixed. They'll want me to do it right then and there.”

“Ask for two boars and three chickens in exchange and mention how much you love sausages and drumsticks,” Hiccup dryly suggested.

Jack and Valka glanced at one another and started to laugh. After a few moments Hiccup joined in. To both Hiccup and Jack, it felt nice to be able to laugh together at something. Despite that, Hiccup managed to formulate a good plan.

“That'll work,” the Earthling said when they calmed. “Not the sausage and drumsticks part, though.”

Half an hour later Jack banged at the front door of Thorston Manor while four others stood out of sight near a corner. The large house, ramshackle due to the number of ill-advised additions the Thorstons slapped on it over the years, appeared deserted. However, deep inside a dog started to bark followed by the grunt and squeal of a boar. Then a wild cacophony broke lose as all the animals began to respond to the alarm. Jack stood on the front stoop and wondered who or what would open the door. Over a minute of continuous ruckus commenced before he heard the door handle jingle. It flew open to reveal Tuffnut still dressed in a nightshirt.

“Skinny? What are you doing here? Who sent you? Is anyone with you?” The clearly groggy man blurted out the questions.

“My name is Jack. I'm here to check the repairs I made. I sent myself, and I come alone,” he answered all the questions.

“Very well. You sound like you know what you're talking about. Come in.”

Tuffnut stepped to the side. Jack could not help but notice how the man leaned as a result of the dire injury he received during the civil war. Tuffnut nearly bled to death. Only Gothi's skilled hands saved his life, but she could not entirely mend the wound that permanently bowed the Viking to one side. Despite being partially crippled, Tuffnut resumed flying Belch, his half of the zippleback, as soon as he could. He and his sister worked out a new method to control the dragon to compensate for Tuffnut's injury.

“What are you doing up so early?” The Viking asked as he led him through a small sea of boars, chickens, and dogs that rushed through the house to inspect him. A flight of small dragons waited further inside. “How can you stand seeing such a new sun? It's almost indecent of you.”

Jack picked his way among the animals who pecked, rooted, and sniffed him. He also needed to watch his step as toys from the children, possibly the adults as well, littered the floor. From his last visit, Jack learned not to move anything. The Thorstons to a person retained an uncanny memory of where they last set down an object. He got lectured by child and parent alike about changing the order of the house.

“Tuffnut, some people actually like to operate during the daylight hours. It saves on candles, you know,” he answered as he carefully walked.

“I suppose, but candles are cheap and the dark offers cover,” Tuffnut countered.

“Cover for what?”

“Ah! Wouldn't you like to know!”

It seemed the wiser course to drop the subject and continue toward the dining area. He made a number of repairs to the table since it got used for just about everything and even sometimes for dining. Jack aimed for it. Tuffnut followed.

“How's Bristlechin?” Jack queried as they neared the object of his interest.

“Good, but I think she might be pregnant again,” the male half of the house ownership team informed him as they wended through a plethora of curious animals and even more curious objects. “At least she's acting pregnant.”

“And how does she act?”

“She keeps sharpening her axes and knives. Chinny-chin did that a lot the last two times. I thought she was going to sacrifice me to Loki.”

“You don't sound surprised or shocked,” Jack said and tried to hide his alarm.

“It's something Loki might demand, and we his loyal followers must heed the will of our god,” The bent Viking with long, blonde hair replied in a reverent manner.

“Your devotion is inspirational,” the Guardian drolly commented.

“Good of you to notice,” his host responded and completely missed the sarcasm. They reached the dining area and the man jerked at thumb toward the table. “Do you mind leaving the gang in place under there? There might be a child hidden in there somewhere, too, and they can get protective.”

“I will do my best to keep from disturbing them, Tuffnut.”

“You are a most gracious and considerate craftsman, Skinny. I will henceforth recommend you to friend and family alike!”

“Appreciated.”

Jack walked slowly toward the dining table. Several animal heads, including one small dragon, lifted to watch his approach. From what he could view under the table, Jack did not see a child. A horrifying thought ran through his head that perhaps the animals ate the youngster. He dismissed it. Ruffnut and Tuffnut might be unconventional parents in nearly every respect, but the children appeared sufficiently clothed, well fed, and adequately safe for the most part. The Thorston clan also seemed deliriously happy with one another. It baffled just about everyone in the village. Jack dropped down to his hands and knees and crawled the rest of the way.

He ignored the several animals that growled at him and said: “Isemaler. Today is the day. Outside at the right corner of the house are the others. Go out there to meet them. They'll shield you.”

“Is it safe?” The spirit's voice asked.

“No, but if you fly as fast as you can, it will be.”

Isemaler made a humming noise. Although he could not see the Hallan protector of children, he felt when the spirit left the vicinity. The fact several of the animals turned their heads in the direction Jack indicated gave a clue. Jack backed out while two chickens and a dog looked as if they contemplated attacking him.

“Well?” Tuffnut asked when Jack stood up.

“The leg is holding. I think I'm going to get pecked to death. I didn't see any children, and I dispelled a ghost for you,” Jack told the man, and he could not stop from including Isemaler in the listing.

“Wormmeat said something else was living under there,” Tuffnut muttered. “How'd you get rid of it?”

“Told it the ghosts of chickens past were coming to get it.”

“There must be hundreds of those around here by now... and I'm not surprised to hear that, either.” The man in his sleeping attire stated with certainty. “So the table is in good shape?”

“Should last another few years before I need to come and fix it again,” Jack told him the truth.

“Excellent. That table is a family heirloom.”

“It can't be older than twenty years.”

“True, but we've had in the family ever since we learned to train dragons. We call it the Legacy of the Night Fury,” the Viking with absurdly long blond dreadlocks informed him.

“I'll tell Hiccup that. It'll warm the cockles of his heart,” Jack said and layered on the sarcasm.

“He should go see Gothi and Nichrank about that. They have a cure... I think.”

Jack made the decision to extricate himself from Thorston Manor as quickly as he could before Tuffnut got him ensnared in a pointless but likely engaging conversation regarding invented illnesses. He also feared the rest of the family might rouse, and then he would be stuck answering questions for them. Thus, with a sure foot he walked toward the front door with a stream of animals in his wake. Tuffnut continued to blather on about cockles being bad for the blood as well as the digestive system. It took everything in Jack's power to keep from asking where the man got his information. When he finally made it out of the house, Tuffnut held him for a brief moment.

“Your consideration for the welfare of this family will not go unrewarded, Skinny. We'll send all of our woodworking needs to you regardless of how much better Snotlout is,” the man told him with such seriousness Jack almost assumed it a jest.

“Ah, thanks,” he managed to respond. “Give my best to the rest of the family.”

“I shall, I shall. I most certainly shall.”

With that Jack stepped off the stoop and walked away from the house at a fast pace without making it look like he ran. Down the path he saw the tight formation of four people. He assumed Isemaler made it to the group, and they formed a shield around him. The sound of a door closing in the distance brought him relief. Jack broke into a fast trot to catch up with the others. As he ran, he contemplated what Tuffnut meant about Snotlout, and then decided in that direction lay madness.

As previously agreed, the five marched to a spot behind the Ingerman house. It kept them out of sight and did not invite curious people as did the Haddock house that sat so close to the Great Hall. Four dragons waited for their riders. Jack saddled IceSpike before he left, and carefully packed the globes he brought from Earth in one one of the side bags. Hiccup explained the flight formation and how he expected Isemaler to keep to it. An invisible voice agreed. Everyone could hear the strain in his tone. Even the brief time he spent outside of protective environment caused him pain. Isemaler said the voice sounded like thunder crashing inside of his skull. They kept close ranks about him with both humans and dragons.

It took a little doing, but all solid members of the party eventually boarded the correct dragon while keeping the Spirit of Winter Joy shielded. Cloudjumper extended one wing to keep Isemaler safe while Toothless and Meatlug took the sky. IceSpike rose as slowly as she could to create a living awning of dragon for Isemaler to hide under as soon as she flew above the first two airborne beasts. Lastly, Valka and Groanhilde on Cloudjumper closed the bottom. The began to lift higher into the air in tight formation.

“Isemaler?” Hiccup called to his left since IceSpike served in the top position. “Are you there? Are you alright?”

“I'm here,” a timid voice replied. “I can still hear it.”

“Louder than a whisper?” Jack loudly inquired.

“Only a little.”

“That's good. Right?” Fishlegs added and asked.

“Probably as good as we're going to get,” Hiccup responded. “Okay, everyone spot IceSpike and follow her pattern. Take the lead, Jack!”

Jack did. He used his knees to nudge IceSpike into the correct north by northeast direction while gradually climbing higher. Berk dropped below them and eventually behind. Some people watched them go. A few riders flew up toward them, but Hiccup used hand signals to warn them away. He made it appear as if they trained in a new flying tactic. It did not take long until they flew alone in the sky, except for the occasional wild dragons they spotted in the distance. Tight formation flying proved as strenuous as cargo hauling, but for different reasons. It put the people under mental pressure to control their mounts when air currents shifted or the wind picked up. The dragons at times struggled to keep wings from getting entwined. By the end of the first hour, the group eased into a routine. They flew mostly in silence, except when Hiccup checked on the Spirit of Winter Joy.

“Waypoint island at eighty... give or take a degree,” Fishlegs shouted when over another hour passed. “Can we land for a break?”

“We should, Jack,” Hiccup seconded the idea.

“Alright. Have Valka lead the descent!” Jack yelled from where he sat.

Hiccup conveyed the message to the senior dragon woman. Jack watched out of his periphery for changes in Meatlug's attitude since Toothless nearly blended in with the color of the ocean. They moved in jerky pattern. Periodically Isemaler would let out with yell, and they would fly closer together. It took fifteen minutes to execute the landing that under normal circumstances would take two at most. Figuring out which dragon should land where caused a collision between Toothless and Meatlug, and only the experience of the riders kept them from falling into the water.

“We've got to get better at landing when we reach the finger,” Hiccup growled when he dismounted and started massaging the area where the night fury made contact with the gronckle.

“Isemaler?” Jack called out the spirit.

He heard nothing. Everyone stopped moving, and he saw them turning their heads in different directions. The Guardian clamped down on his nerves.

“Isemaler?” He said in a louder voice.

After several seconds, Jack heard a groan that did not issue from mortal lips.

“What's the matter, Isemaler? What is it?” He asked and walked toward the source of the moan.

“Loud,” a broken voice issued from the middle of the air. “So loud.”

“Jack?” Hiccup spoke the name in a quavering voice.

“What?” He rejoined in irritation.

“Great Odin, what is that?” Groanhilde muttered in a similar manner as Hiccup.

Jack raised his head and looked around. The heads of all the dragons faced in the same direction as did their human counterparts. The beasts made a growling noise. He saw what caused the reaction. Floating fifty or so feet off the island, a vaguely humanoid-shaped gray fog drifted. Instinct informed the Guardian of what it could be. He swallowed hard against a fear building in his chest.

“Is that...?” Fishlegs warbled but did not finish the question.

“I think so,” Jack answered.

“Can you... sense or... feel it or whatever you can?” Valka asked an almost incoherent question.

Isemaler groaned again in obvious agony.

“No, and I don't think it likes dragons,” Jack answered.

The nebulous form began to travel in an arc around the island. It kept the same distance no matter where it moved. Beast and person alike watched it as it shifted position.

“How did it find us so fast?” Groanhilde asked the one question on everybody's mind.

“We couldn't keep Isemaler shielded good enough,” Hiccup stated what seemed annoyingly obvious.

“What do we do?” Valka droned the query.

The group stood in silence and inched a little closer to their dragons. Hiccup looked at Jack, and Jack returned the gaze. Neither could fashion an answer. Their plan lay two hours further to the northeast. It appeared the being waited until they landed and purposefully showed itself.

“I can't tell if it wants me or Isemaler,” Jack grunted in frustration.

“You,” Isemaler moaned the word. “Wants... child of... Elada.”

“That would be you,” Hiccup said in a dire manner. “But why won't it come closer?”

“It's the dragons,” Jack repeated. “It knows they can see it. It might even have run into spokelsedrake or something else like it, so it knows the dragons can harm it. I wonder if Toothless' plasma...”

“Toothless, echo!” Hiccup shouted without needing to hear anything further, and he pointed at the person-like gray fog.

Toothless stepped forward, opened his maw, and let loose with a faint blast of plasma. A blue ring hurtled toward the thing above the water. In the blink of an eye, it darted out of the way of the blast. Toothless sent another without command, and once again Etuchaand dodged it.

“Definitely the dragons,” Hiccup declared.

“This is bad. We're nowhere near The Finger of the Gods,” Fishlegs stated what everyone seemed to think. “What are we going to do?”

Once more the group slid into silence. Jack beat on his brain for an answer. Hiccup did as well. Nothing came to mind for either of them.

“Improvise, Jack,” Groanhilde told him. “Isn't that what you and Isemaler do when things get bad?”

Jack nodded his head and repeated one word: “Improvise.”

“Don't do anything stupid, Jack,” Hiccup warned him.

“Stupid maybe the only thing we have left.”

“Jack Frost, do not play with your life,” Valka said and sounded remarkably like her son.

“Play,” Jack said the word. “Play.”

“Jack!” Hiccup nearly snarled the name.

“Does Toothless want to play?” The hidden Guardian queried and looked at the night fury.

Toothless gazed at him with uncertain eyes.

“Does Toothless want to fly... fast!” Jack said with as much gusto as he could.

Toothless started to wiggle his body at the tone of his voice.

“What are you planning with my dragon?” Hiccup inquired in clear anger.

“Here's what I'm going to do,” Jack calmly but sternly said, “and what I would like you to do, Hiccup. I'm going to fly to The Finger with Fishlegs and Valka.”

“And what do you want me to do?” The Viking asked in confusion.

“Get Isemaler to pump as much energy into you and Toothless as he can... once we lead Etuchaand away, and then fly back to Berk. Get Rancid... Snotlout... Nosewart or any other rider you trust and bring them to The Finger.”

“Snotlout doesn't have a dragon,” Fishlegs sharply stated.

“No, but IceSpike won't have a rider when the moon rises, and we going to need everyone we can find to help fight,” the soon to be Spirit of Fun explained to the man. “We need dragons and people who can control them.”

“Why?” Valka asked.

“Because that thing doesn't like them, and we can build a wall of dragons around the trap. We can make Etuchaand insane thinking I'm getting away. It'll attack sooner or later.”

“Won't that endanger the dragons?” Fishlegs blurted with undisguised worry.

“Yes, but it will kill the dragons as soon as he gets my body and Isemaler's staff. It's a terrible choice, but do we lose a few or all of them... and us?” Jack grimly proposed the likely outcome.

No one argued against him. He looked from person to person. Fear dulled their eyes at the unexpected turn of events. The Guardian in him began to rise to the surface of his mind if not his body.

“IceSpike, scatter shot!” The Guardian yelled and aimed his hand at the figure.

The dragon wheeled her head around and sent a cascade of frozen particles toward the figure dancing in the wind just beyond edge of island. As it did with Toothless' relatively harmless echo ring, it fled out of the path. Jack felt a dire grin spread across his face.

“Everyone get mounted,” Jack commanded them. “Isemaler, stay with Toothless and get ready to infuse them with energy. They need to fly as fast as you!”

“It... hates you,” Isemaler mumbled. “A lot.”

“Good. I want it to follow me and not you.”

“Jack, this is insane,” Hiccup warned him again in a scathing tone.

“What else do you want me to do, Hiccup? Huh? What better plan do you have?” The Earthling yelled at the Hallan. “I don't want to die for Odin's sake, but I don't want this thing to kill anyone else. So what hell do you want me to do? Tell me now ‘cause we're running out of time!”

A frozen, stiff expression crossed Hiccup's face. He could not formulate a way to get out of the situation. Forces he barely understood aligned against him, and the only one who could comprehend their enemy challenged him. The Viking lowered his gaze.

“Go, damn you,” he said as fear gripped him. “But don't you dare get killed.”

“Believe it or not, Hiccup, that's one of my top priorities!”

Hiccup did not rise to the bait of an argument. No one needed to tell him Jack used his anger to get past his fear. He tried to do the same.

“Wait until we go and make sure Etuchaand follows us,” Jack said when Hiccup did not respond. “Let's go before it figures out what it can do.”

Jack, Fishlegs, and Valka climbed aboard their mounts and began attaching the flying straps. Hiccup also mounted Toothless and did the same. The four mortals glanced at one another. One by one they nodded their heads. Jack then faced northeast.

“Let's take this thing through some dragon infested areas,” he growled. “IceSpike, fly!”

The woolly howl spread her wings and prepared to launch. A gronckle and stormcutter did the same. As though some gave a silent command, the three dragons shot into the air. Hiccup remained on the ground and felt Toothless tense under him. He knew the night fury wondered why they did not take off as well. Hiccup watched. The gray outline of a sort of person-like shape wavered for a moment. It then blinked from view. Hiccup saw it trailing behind the dragons in the sky.

“Why does he always have to be right about this stuff?” Hiccup muttered.

“'Cause he's been doing this longer than you,” Isemaler told him, and did not sound in pain. “Aletha doesn't care about me anymore. I can barely hear it's voice.”

“It's concentrating on Jack and trying to find a way to kill him! You're next if it manages to do that.”

“Oh.” Hiccup blankly remarked and forced his anger and fear down into his gut. “Did you understand what Jack wants you to do?”

“Yes. We're going to fly my way!”

Isemaler appeared before Hiccup and Toothless. He twirled the staff in his hand. After not seeing the long stick for many weeks, it made the Viking start. The spirit appeared untroubled and a strange grin rested on his translucent mouth. It amazed Hiccup how much Grimtooth looked like Jack in his immortal form, but yet not exactly alike. Isemaler looked Hallan.

“Ready?” Isemaler asked him.

“Let's move. We can't waste any time,” Hiccup admonished.

Isemaler drifted behind him. Suddenly Hiccup felt weight against his back and one arm wrap around his midriff. Without warning something chill ran through him and Toothless let out with a bugle. Isemaler laughed in the way only the spirit could.

“This tickles,” the Spirit of Winter Joy warbled.

For the fourth time in his life Hiccup felt himself transform. It happened so quickly he almost missed it. Time and again Jack spoke of Isemaler's abilities on Halla matching his own on Earth. The former Grimtooth Skovaks proved it with little effort. It only took seconds before Hiccup experienced the strange sensation of turning immaterial. Toothless shifted around on his feet, and then craned his head around. The rider saw the gleam in the dragon's eyes, as if the winged beast completely understood what happened. Hiccup patted the muscled neck, and it felt solid. However, he knew the truth.

“Okay, Toothless. Let's go!” Isemaler howled into the sky.

“Fly, bud!” Hiccup reinforced the order.

The night fury hunched his body, spread his wings, and then sent himself and his passengers skyward. They shot away from the island at a dizzying speed. Toothless, ever the speed demon of a dragon, began to pump his wings at a faster pace. Their speed increased at a disproportional rate. The ocean turned into a solid blur under the trio. Isemaler began to let out with a loud cackle, and Hiccup could feel the spirit focusing even more power into them. Toothless stretched out his neck, and he worked his wings with greater gusto. The absence of wind made it a surreal experience. Unlike the first time, Hiccup actually got to think about the fact they flew at a rate they, based on casual observation, seemed faster than what they achieved when Jack used the trick. The night fury ate up miles as though slurping down chum.

“Berk ahead!” Hiccup yelled no more than twenty minutes later, and he began banking Toothless. “Slow us down!”

The Viking thought he heard Isemaler grumble in protest. However, the spirit complied. They slowed considerably as they neared the island. By the time they reached the edge of Berk, they flew at roughly twice the speed Toothless could normally achieve on his own.

“Cut off the power, Isemaler. Now!”

“Alright. Stop shouting.”

The energy abruptly ceased flowing into the dragon. The resistance of air and the pull of gravity took over. Toothless wobbled dangerously for a few moments as he adjusted to normal conditions. Hiccup wanted to yell at the spirit, but retained enough presence of mind to know Isemaler did exactly as ordered. With that thought in mind, he held his tongue as he aimed for a particular house, and the one he feared would cause him the most trouble.

“Hiccup? What are you doing here?” Astrid asked and sounded nonplussed at his sudden and unexpected arrival.

“We need you, Astrid. We need you and Stormwing. We need you to fly with us now or else Jack will get killed... and then probably my mom, Fishlegs, and Groanhilde,” he quickly stated his case.

“Jack, Valka... Hiccup...” she sputtered as a two children bearing her hair ran around the yard.

Hiccup shook his head while he said: “This is no joke, Astrid. We got an enemy unlike anything you've ever seen before. It'll take dragons to defeat it. Not axes or swords or spears, just dragons!”

Although she radiated a well-practiced anger at him, her face – more round after bearing two children – subtly changed. Her gray-blue bore into his green ones. Hiccup did not flinch or look away. After a few seconds, she broke away.

“Hundfus! Get out here and watch the kids. There's an emergency,” she loudly said in the direction of the house. Then she cupped her hands to her mouth. “Stormwing. Here!”

From the other side of the house a deadly nadder rumbled, and the winged over the roof. It circled once and landed. Astrid ran to a small shack on the side of the house while a fairly burly man ran out from the back door. Dressed in course brown pants, heavy boots, and yellow flax shirt, Hundfus Vollen looked every bit the typical Viking. He whipped his head around as he scanned the situation.

“Astrid?” He called. Then he focused on Hiccup: “You? What are you doing here?”

“Trying to keep people from getting killed, and I need Astrid's help!”

Hundfus appeared a bit shocked at the blunt and honest reply.

“Tell Astrid to meet me over dragon cave bell tower in a few minutes. I need to go get Snotlout and the twins,” Hiccup informed the man. “Up, Toothless!”

Hundfus appeared justifiably confused as he spun in a circle trying to watch both his wife and the departing night fury. Hiccup ignored the man as he directed Toothless toward a new destination on the island, and one he visited more frequently over the past few weeks. The dragon seemed to know where they headed. The main neighborhood of Berk thinned out as they flew northwest along the island.

“Be gentle with him, Hiccup,” Isemaler's disembodied voice crept around his head. “What you are going to ask of Snotlout will cause him pain.”

“How would you know?” Hiccup challenged.

“It is not only the children who need me, and I've heard the conversations between Jack and Snotlout. Hookfang is never far from his thoughts.”

“Yeah... thanks,” the Viking said in a more diplomatic fashion.

Less than two minutes later the trio, with one of them invisible, landed in Snotlout's front yard. Toothless let out a warble of greeting, and both Heeboo and Ra-ra responded. Moments later Snotlout came walking out onto the porch.

“Hiccup?” He asked and sounded a bit confused. A second later Snotlout added: “What's the matter?”

“Snotlout, is Jack your friend?” Hiccup asked in a blunt but calm manner.

“Of course he is. Why?”

“Would you help save his life?”

“Don't be stupid. Of course, I would.”

“Even if it meant flying on a dragon?” Hiccup cautiously inquired.

“I... Hiccup, what's going on?” The man said as a grim visage took over on his face.

“Jack is in trouble. Something is trying to kill him. My mom, Fishlegs, and Groanhilde are trying to protect him, but they're in danger, too, Snotlout. This is no joke and I don't have time to explain, but we really need your help.”

The two men eyed one another. As Isemaler warned, a pained expression took root on Snotlout. Hiccup began a countdown in his head. If Snotlout did not agree within fifteen seconds, he would not press the man and fly to the next stop. He made it to nine.

“What about Heeboo and Ra-ra?” Snotlout queried.

“We'll get someone from the dragon caves to look in on them,” Hiccup offered.

A deep frown creased Snotlout's face, and then he said: “He is my friend. Give me one second.”

Snotlout then called out a set of bizarre instructions, but the large boar in his house grunted and snorted as if it understood. The man closed the front door and walked to the dragon and rider. He held out a hand, and Toothless rubbed his face against it.

“Heya, Toothless,” Snotlout quietly greeted the dragon.

Toothless warbled at him.

“Snotlout, I don't want to rush you...”

“But you need to rush me. Okay,” The man said and walked to the rear section of the dragon.

Toothless crouched and offered a knee. Snotlout appeared to exercise an old muscle memory and climbed aboard. Strong arms wrapped around Hiccup's torso.

“So I just hold on?” Snotlout inquired.

“As best as you can. Toothless, up!”

Snotlout let out a surprised yelp as the dragon launched two, possibly three, people in the air. Hiccup wondered if Snotlout now sat inside the spirit, and a whole host of strange and slightly unsettling questions popped into his head. He shook it once to dispel the thoughts and considered his next objective. The success thus far seemed unlikely, so Hiccup decided to press his luck.

“Where are we going now?” Snotlout's somewhat husky voice queried.

“Thorston Manor!” Hiccup replied as the wind stole the words from his mouth.

“This really is an emergency.”

“You have no idea,” the rider of the night fury grimly intoned.


	13. Chapter 13

Hiccup's luck improbably held out. Just under two hours later he with Snotlout riding behind him, Astrid on Stormwing, and Ruffnut and Tuffnut on Barf and Belch flew over the waypoint island. Having flown and defended Berk with these people in the past, he felt he could ask them to step into danger since they would intuitively understand the seriousness of his request. Conversely, the Viking did not feel he could ask others to risk their lives even though he trusted many others to the same degree as his old friends. It simply seemed wrong to Hiccup to do so.

“How much further, Hiccup?” Tuffnut yelled from the neck of Belch.

“They weren't on the island we just passed, so it's still another two hours of flight,” he answered.

“Are they even going to be alive when we get there?” Astrid crossly hollered.

“I hope so.”

“So do I,” Snotlout said from his rearward position.

Despite the news, none of his friends threatened to turn back. Instead, they settled into a semi-fast flight speed he knew they could maintain until they reached The Finger of the Gods island. Before leaving they raided the dragon cavern for armor and supplies. Hiccup also ordered Gustav Larson to go and watch over Heeboo and Ra-ra. Snotlout shared a secret word with the junior rider that would keep the boar form tearing Gustav to pieces. In Hiccup's mind, the once ardent follower of Snotlout, and who also happened ride a monstrous nightmare as well, seemed the perfect person to stand guard of those creatures that led the man out of his personal darkness. The choice also appeared to sit will with Snotlout.

“When do we eat?” Ruffnut loudly asked.

“Whenever you want. You've eaten while flying before,” Hiccup rejoined.

“I got used to eating at the table Jack fixed. That's the only reason why I agreed to come along,” the woman exclaimed.

“Be ashamed, woman!” Her brother yelled a her. “Jack came to examine the table and we didn't even have to pay him. He is more than a woodworker to us!”

“A friend perhaps?” The blonde warrior-woman spoke loudly enough to be heard within a twenty foot radius even in the wind.

“Well... I don't know. We didn't put him through the Thorston friendship ritual. Maybe we should if he's still alive,” the man whose body curved to one side explained.

“Somethings don't change, do they?” Snotlout opined at the back of Hiccup's head.

“What is wrong with you two?” Astrid yelled from her position. “People's lives are at stake, and you're worried about a friendship ritual!”

“If we made him a Thorston friend, we'd fight even harder for him,” Ruffnut answered as though Astrid did not display any anger whatsoever. “It would make him part of the clan.”

“And the children like him, and so do the great, great, great, great, great... um, great, great grandchicks of Chicken,” Tuffnut provided more of their reasoning, and Hiccup wondered if it could be called such.

“How do you know?” Ruffnut asked her brother.

“Did you see any blood this morning?”

“Ah, most excellent point, dear brother. They do like to peck those to whom they show no favor.”

“Indeed!” Tuffnut agreed.

“Nothing changed with them,” Snotlout commented.

“Except they had children with people they got to marry them. If that doesn't scare you, then you're ready for what we're about to face,” Hiccup told his friend.

He felt Snotlout both laugh and shudder.

“Hiccup? Can't you make those two shut up?” Astrid begged.

“When have I ever managed to do that?” Hiccup countered.

Astrid looked irate and shook her head. Hiccup went back to ignoring the inane prattle of the twins. As he looked around, he saw how ten years changed the people with whom he grew up, but he still felt as if he knew them; at least the core of their being. They dressed much like they once did when he called them to battle. A great double-headed axe hung from Astrid's back that, itself, got clad in leather and iron spikes. Snotlout found and wore a boar-hide vest without arms although he deigned to wear a flax shirt under it. The twins dressed in their familiar sheepskin sleeveless jerkins with the fuzzy side turned outward over rather fine looking linen shirts and some of the best canvas pants in the village. In some respects, Hiccup felt transported back through time. It seemed he instinctively reached out to those with whom he stood side-by-side in the past despite how the years led them in different directions. In the back of his mind, Hiccup hoped Snotlout's words proved prophetic.

The group fell into a range of behavioral patterns formed long ago. They flew in a close formation, although not as tight as the one used to transport Isemaler. Tuffnut sat on the inside of the formation to compensate for his injury even though Hiccup never instructed any of them on positions. He took lead as require since he knew the destination, while Astrid flew to his left and the Thorston twins to the right. Only Snotlout occupied an unfamiliar seat. Hiccup hoped, while the twins continued to playfully annoy the group with their outlandish banter, Snotlout would be able to sit astride IceSpike if the need came. That hope rested on the recent friendship the man developed with Jack. In then end, Hiccup realized everything he expected at that moment rested on old ties, some of which frayed over the years, but one he prayed remained strong enough to fight yet another uncertain battle.

When he could just make out the shape of The Finger of the Gods island in the distance, Hiccup surveyed the area. As always, it remained oddly free of dragons and ships. Even several miles out from the island the ocean did not boast any water-type dragons. Fish also appeared to be in short supply. Overheard clouds obscured the sun that definitely angled toward the eastern horizon. Jack's change of plan to start earlier in the day seemed prescient, in Hiccup's estimation, given the way the events unfolded. Otherwise, he and the rest of the Defenders of Berk would flying in the dark and likely to a slaughter. With perhaps five miles to fly, Hiccup began to feel the odd presence of the island.

“Whoa, girl!” Astrid suddenly said in a loud voice.

“What's up with you two?” Ruffnut added.

Toothless rumbled, although he did not balk at continuing the flight toward the island.

“I feel funny,” Snotlout said, and it sounded like he talked to himself.

“Listen, this is not a normal place we're going to. You'll understand when we get there, but you need to keep heading toward that tall, thin spire of rock.”

“Hiccup, what is this place?” Astrid demanded to know.

“We call it The Finger of the Gods,” he answered.

“Which gods?” Tuffnut casually inquired.

“The ones that really exist... and nothing like we normally think they are.”

“Loki always surprises!” Ruffnut joined in with her brother's whooping.

“There is no such thing as Loki, but there are worse,” Hiccup said in the sternest tone he could under the conditions.

“Wait, Hiccup, are we going to fight gods?” Astrid inquired in an uncertain manner.

“Yes, one... and it's not from around here. It's ancient and powerful and seems to have a taste for destruction,” he openly admitted as they drew closer and closer their destination. “But it's not fond of dragons, and we might have an ally.”

“Oh, an ally? If not Loki, who you think is make believe and rules out the Thorston friendship ritual for you, then who is it?” Tuffnut gruffly questioned.

“Isemaler.”

“Wait, you don't mean the one the kids believe in?” Snotlout blurted in suprise.

“The one and the same,” Hiccup told the man behind him and the others. “Isemaler has something this other... thing wants and needs.”

“Hold on one second,” Astrid yelled. “You're talking about the invisible guy who paints with ice and my children talk about all winter long?”

“He's the Spirit of Winter Joy, and he's real, Astrid.”

“Have you lost your flipping mind, Hiccup? You brought us all the way out her for... for... for a child's fantasy?” The fierce warrior of the group screamed at him.

Hiccup turned his head, first looking at the Thorstons, and then the other way at Astrid. Snotlout leaned out of the way each time. Hiccup fixed a fierce gaze on Astrid who threw knives at him from hers. They locked together in a remembrance of their long-standing animosity.

“Gods, and I wish this was only a fantasy,” he began in a cold, loud voice. “If this Etuchaand succeeds in what it wants to do, there is more than a good chance everything on this world will die. Right now it's weak and we have a chance, slim chance, to stop it and send it back where it belongs. You can call me crazy if you want, but only after you see what we're facing!”

Astrid glared at him, but said nothing.

“You're not joking, are you, Hiccup?” Snotlout asked in a worried tone.

“No, Snotlout, this is no joke... and this is the most afraid I've ever been in my life!”

Admitting his fear produced an odd calming effect in him. Hiccup confessed to himself he rode in terror at what he might find on the islands. His mother, Jack, Fishlegs, Groanhilde, and possibly Isemaler could be lying dead at the top of the spire. Should that be true, it dawned on Hiccup he and the other Defenders flew to their own deaths. He swallowed hard and angled toward the flat area at the tip of The Finger. He got his first notion as to how those who sent him for help fared.

They lived, and Hiccup breathed with some relief. However, they clearly stood on the defense. Humans and dragons aligned themselves in a circle facing outward. They stood near the trap as if that, too, needed defending. Hiccup led the newly arrived team in a flyby of The Finger, and those standing on it watched them. Hiccup scanned for and finally found the nebulous form of Etuchaand. It floated at the edge of the roughly oval-shaped plateau. He guided the other riders, now silent, to the group waiting for them.

“Only three?” Jack yelled in a hoarse voice and he looked panicked.

The former Defenders of Berk landed beside the group. After unbuckling the flying straps, they slid to the ground. Hiccup noted the tensions. While the group more or less came together.

“Don't forget about me,” a voice from an unseen source stated.

Isemaler popped into view next to Jack. Astrid yelped in surprise. Ruffnut and Tuffnut let out a startled hum. Snotlout coughed and sputtered.

“Real, like I said,” Hiccup darkly stated. “Now get into the circle and look for the man... shaped... cloud-like thing.”

“Like that over there?” Tuffnut dryly inquired.

Everyone – beast, human, and immortal alike – spun toward the direction the bent man pointed. Sure enough, there floated a vaguely humanoid gray, misty mass. It moved to one side a short distance as if investigating the observational skills of the newly arrived. They all tracked it.

“Hiccup Horrendous Haddock, what did you get is into? I have children at home!” Astrid verbally pounced on him.

“And they will die if this thing wins,” Valka intoned in a deadly serious tone. “It's been testing us, Hiccup, and getting closer.”

Astrid looked furious at how Valka spoke to her, but no one paid her much attention. Ruffnut gave her one sidelong glance, and the returned her gaze to Etuchaand. The somewhat daft woman studied it as if she discovered a new bug. She nudged her brother with an elbow.

“Loki?” She inquired.

“No, I think not, dear sister,” the man rejoined in a strangely calm fashion. “Loki would never dress like he got covered in soot. He'd want us to recognize him in all his glory.”

“Very astute, learned brother. So you think Loki still exists?”

“Hold your tongue, woman! I never doubted!” Tuffnut exclaimed at her.

“They have conversations like this all the time,” Isemaler said and sounded a bit awed. “Most of the time I have no idea what they're talking about.”

“Nobody does,” Jack intoned. “Can we now focus on the real issue. Aletha keeps trying to get inside my head!”

Regardless of Jack's call to attention, Astrid, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, and Snotlout eyed Isemaler and leaned away from him. Hiccup, however, thought it a good sign they simply did not climb on their dragons and fly away. They handled the revelations much better than he anticipated while flying to The Finger of the Gods. He never formulated a good way to explain the situation to his fellow Berkians.

“So Hiccup,” Tuffnut spoke in contemplative tones. “He's real, or at least we're sharing your delusion, but you say Loki isn't. What proof do you have of that.”

“You can't prove a negative, Tuffnut,” Jack said, actually yelled, before Hiccup could answer. “Argh! My head!”

At that point Etuchaand darted in a circle around the group.

“Toothless, echo!” Hiccup shouted.

The night fury instantly reacted. He lowered on his haunches, opened his mouth, and sent out a ring of pale blue light toward the mobile gray cloud. It rushed away from the plasma. Hiccup slapped Toothless' neck in appreciation.

“Gah... thanks,” Jack heaved with relief.

“So... Jack... why is this thing trying to kill you?” Snotlout asked and his voice quavered with uncertainty.

“It wants my body so it can steal Isemaler's staff,” the Guardian in hiding said without any forewarning.

“Because...?” Ruffnut rolled out the word and held the final vowel sound for three seconds.

“Because I used to wield it, and it's connected to my maker, and it wants to get back to our dimension so it can destroy my maker and reign all sorts of unholy hell all over my world! That's why!”

“Jack, calm down just a little,” Hiccup gently advised.

“That thing has been beating at my brain for the last four hours while you... and you only brought three. Why, Hiccup? This isn't going to be enough!” Jack quailed at him.

“How do I ask people who aren't ready to face something like this to die for what they can't begin to understand?” Hiccup shot back in ire.

“By telling them they're going to die if they don't. That what they're fighting is going to test its strength on them when it finishes us off!”

“You're wrong, Jack,” Groanhilde suddenly piped up, and it got everyone to look at her. “It'd be confusion and even crazier than what we're facing right now. It took me days and days to really accept the truth ‘bout you and Isemaler. You'd be courting disaster if Hiccup brought everyone with with him, so give it a rest!”

Jack looked stunned and said: “I can't, Groanhilde. If I do... it wins.”

“Truth about Jack and Isemaler? What?” Snotlout grumbled the questions, and the twins nodded their agreement.

“Short story: Jack used to be Isemaler when he first got here. Then some spokelsedrake killed him. Then his maker, The Man in the Moon, got together with Noro the Skydancer, our... not maker... she... Jack, what is she?” Hiccup tried to explain.

“She is the guiding entity over Halla and sees to all the creatures, mortal and immortal, that live on this planet,” the Guardian quickly summarized.

“She got together with Jack's maker and Death, and they decided Jack could live a mortal life here... except he didn't right away ‘cause he still had to be Isemaler ‘cause the children believed in him. Then Grimtooth got killed defend...”

“I didn't die, Hiccup. Noro raised me from the waters before I drowned. I mean I was close, very close, to death. I saw Aita and the gap to eternity, but I got the staff and became Isemaler maybe a second or two before I actually died... I think,” the spirit interjected and explained with less certainty than when he began.

“That's how he got to become Isemaler in Jack's place here on our world,” Hiccup capped that part of the story, and he realized Grimtooth did not like to believe he actually perished.

Four faces looked on in astonishment, and perhaps a bit of fear, as three people tried to narrate the same tale. Mouths hung open as if they wanted to ask questions, but their minds likely did not know where to start. Hiccup faced them and nodded once. His eyes then swept around, found Etuchaand, but returned to his friends.

“I know I'm asking you a lot to accept all this on my word,” he began in a controlled manner. “We've faced just about as bad before, guys: the Red Death, Vigo, Drago, Johann, the Dragon Hunters... and even the Knusehode. You can ask all the questions you want later, but right now I need you to help defend Jack.... Berk and our world from something so terrible I don't even know how to describe it. It's not just me that needs you: it's everyone.”

“I wouldn't mind living to find out more about this,” Tuffnut said as though in a simple conversation.

“True enough, brother of mine. This does require greater investigation,” Ruffnut responded.

“Doesn't anything get to you two?” Astrid growled at them.

Ruffnut stared at the blonde-haired warrior-woman, frowned a bit, and said: “Astrid, have you ever fought the wind and won?”

“Wow,” Snotlout said under his breath, but both Hiccup and Jack heard him.

“What in himmel is that supposed to mean?”

“It means no matter how how you try, the wind will blow regardless of the number of times you strike at it. She's asking if you know which fight is the most important right now,” Valka translated and added.

Astrid appeared befuddled and dumbfounded by the response.

“I think we're out of our league here,” Hiccup whispered to Jack.

“Wait until Aletha decides to strike, then we'll really be in over our heads,” Jack rejoined.

“If we get through this, you guys have so much explaining to do,” Snotlout joined into their private whispering.

“Um, guys, now is not the time...” Fishlegs started to say.

“AH!” Jack screamed and fell to the ground while wrapping his hands around his head.

“Form a circle around him,” Hiccup immediately barked orders. “Toothless... all the dragons! Fire on that thing!”

Old instincts kicked into gear. To a person the dragon riders closed ranks around Jack, and then began to instruct their dragons to launch attacks on Etuchaand. As fire and ice and plasma streamed toward the floating gray cloud, Isemaler floated above them and issued his own response. It seemed as if a hurricane sprang up, but one made of frigid temperatures and frost. Wherever Isemaler pointed the crook, a blizzard ensued. Banks of ice and snow took instant shape. The figure of Aletha darted further back from the perimeter of The Finger to keep out of the blast radius. Ten seconds later, the extreme volley ended.

“What in...” Astrid began to speak and stared up at the figure of Isemaler.

“That's how it attacks. It waits until we get bored or distracted, then it goes after Jack,” Fishlegs told them in an angry growl. “Can we just believe this is real for right now, fight this thing, and then discuss it later before it kills Jack?”

“When did you get so pushy?” Snotlout said in a vague echo of times past.

“While you lived inside a jug of mead,” the stout Viking retorted.

“Touché,” the helmet-less Viking replied.

“Alright, enough,” Hiccup commanded them while he knelt down beside the supine Guardian. “Jack, are you okay.”

“Great Odin, but it was so loud,” Jack weakly grumbled.

“What was loud?” Ruffnut asked. “I didn't hear anything... ‘cept what the Snowman did.”

“I don't know how it does it, but that,” and Hiccup tilted his head in the direction of the new ice wall separating them from Etuchaand, “can get inside Jack and Isemaler's head. They're connected through the staff... somehow... ‘cause Jack used to hold it.”

“I don't think that's right,” Fishlegs murmured, but did not aim his comment at anyone in particular. “There's... still something we're not figuring out.”

“Fishlegs, if you haven't figured it out by now, don't waste time when we got other issues to worry about,” the titular leader of the Defenders rebuked him.

“Just let it rest back here, and you'll get to it,” Groanhilde comforted her husband while tapping the back of his head. “You're too smart not to figure it out.”

Fishlegs twisted his head around and gave her a quick kiss on the side of the cheek.

“Just imagine what their babies are going to be like. Huge!” Tuffnut absentmindedly remarked.

“And smart. Wicked, wicked smart. Me and Chinny are going to need to make a lot more of our own to counter them,” Ruffnut stated as if laying out a battle plan.

“Would now be a good time to throw up a little bit?” Snotlout asked and glanced at the Defenders one by one.

“Please, everyone, we need to stay focused,” Hiccup said.

“Is this what is was like back then?” Jack asked and began pushing himself to a seated position.

“Oh, it was much worse,” the leader of the group intoned.

“Much, much worse,” Snotlout seconded.

“Horrifyingly worse,” Astrid added.

“You weren't that bad,” Valka said in a kindly manner. “Besides, you worked best when you worked together. I understand why Hiccup brought you here.”

“Whether you like it or not, Jack, these are the Guardians of Berk,” Hiccup told the thin man as he helped him to his feet.

“Oddly enough, after hanging out with a giant rabbit, a flying feathered woman, a little yellow man, and Nick, I believe it,” the Guardian responded.

“What the in the name of Freya is he talking about?” Snotlout said with a touch of dismay.

“Part of a much longer story, Snotlout, but for later. Listen, here's what we need to do ‘til the sun goes down and the moon rises,” Hiccup took control once again.

He began to lay out a plan to the other Vikings. Jack and Isemaler listened. Jack never interrupted since it appeared he knew how to communicate to the other dragon riders. Despite the best efforts of Ruffnut and Tuffnut to interject, and Jack realized it came about through their natural inclinations, Hiccup talked over them and laid out his thinking piece by piece. They would keep Jack surrounded. The dragons would continuously scan for the presence of Etuchaand, and the other name of Aletha went unexplained to the recently arrived. They also needed to keep an eye on Isemaler in case Etuchaand changed tactics. Sunset and moonrise, Hiccup told the group, formed their primary objective.

“Why?” Tuffnut inquired without resorting to any inanities.

“Because that's when this device becomes active. With it we can send that gray cloud-thing back to where it belongs,” Hiccup told them without offering a single specific detail on its function or operation. He did not want to waste any time explaining how Jack would actually power the trap.

“Hmm,” the Thorston sister hummed. “It's afraid of the dragons and doesn't want to come near us, so it shouldn't be that hard to keep it at bay.”

“Oh, you'd like to believe that, but I thinks thou forgets the Vantheim Eel...”

Hiccup jumped up, held out his hands as if halting a runaway keg, and said: “Stop! Right now, just... stop! We can debate whether Etuchaand is anything like that eel you invented...”

“It's real,” Ruffnut and Tuffnut said in unison, but then Ruffnut took the lead role. “If you get to have a real Isemaler, and I'm not saying he is even though I can see him floating right over there, then we get to have the Vatnheim Eel!”

“Fine, fine. You get the eel, but right now we've to got to fortify ourselves for what could be a long three or four hours until moonrise.”

“Well played, sister,” Tuffnut less than whispered.

“He couldn't withstand my logic.”

“Completely blew me away,” Hiccup conceded with dry sarcasm.

Both Astrid and Snotlout snorted. Fishlegs simply rolled his eyes in disgust. Groanhilde shook her head.

“Now that we have that settled, shall we get into formation? Please,” Valka implored the group. “Look at the dragons.”

The dragons at some point spun in a half-circle where they stood. They each stared into the distance. The people and spirit followed their example. Etuchaand moved. It continued to float just off the edge of the spire plateau, but it appeared to be slowly circling the spire as if looking for a week spot.

“Jack, get in the middle,” Hiccup instructed and the other dragon riders began to form human shield.

The group banded together in a lose circle. Interspersed between the humans stood dragons. Cloudjumper and Barf and Belch towered over the group. The unique ability of a stormcutter to turn its head one-hundred and eighty degrees (or 50 degrees by the Hallan measure) gave the defenders a slight advantage. Hiccup purposefully put Snotlout next to IceSpike. The two apparently went through a trust ritual, an act Jack surely carried out since dragon-back proved the quickest mean to get to Snotlout's house. Isemaler hovered over Jack's head. Hiccup did not know what else to do with the spirit.

“If it crosses the edge of the platform, have a dragon fire on it,” Hiccup issued another order. “Jack, how does it feel?”

“Quieter,” Jack replied. “Thanks.”

“Aletha doesn't know... understand what you're doing,” Isemaler reported.

“Is it still talking to you?” Hiccup quickly inquired while watching the movement of the Earth entity.

“Sort of... I think. I can kind of hear what it's thinking. It doesn't make much sense to me, but... whatever you're doing doesn't make sense to it.”

“Where does that thing keep it's brain?” Fishlegs wondered aloud.

“It's self-referential, and it's own energies feed back on itself. It absorbs whatever replacement energy it needs from it's surrounding,” Jack offered an answer. “I, ah, sort of survive the same way on Earth.”

“When this is over it is going to be such a long conversation!” Astrid warned as she twisted her around to focus on the being.

“Do you think it'll make any more sense?” Groanhilde inquired, living up to her usual standard.

The small growl seemed a sufficient response.

“It's moving closer,” Valka warned. “Coming in on... well, my left. Cloudjumper, shoot!”

A twirling vortex of fire issued from the stormcutter's mouth, and the aim could not be better. The tunnel of twisting fire clipped the edge of the entity. It paused. Cloudjumper's flame struck it full in what would be considered the chest area. After a few seconds, the flame ceased. Etuchaand remained where it got blasted.

“Ah, Hiccup,” Fishlegs quailed. “The fire didn't hurt it!”

“What?” Hiccup barked the single-word inquiry.

“Fire doesn't hurt me, so why should Aletha get hurt by it?” Isemaler posed frightening comparison question.

“This is not good. If it doesn't fear the dragons, Isemaler, what's to stop it from attacking Jack or you?”

The spirit went silent.

“Maybe Toothless' shots will be different,” Jack suggested, and he privately worried about the development.

His question went unanswered as Etuchaand moved in closer. Jack felt a pressure build in his head. He tried to distract himself by making calculations as to how long until sunset. By his reckoning, the event still lay over two hours in the future. If the being from his world no longer feared most of the dragons, sunset could not arrive soon enough. Then a dangerous and wild notion struck him as he thought about what they could if the dragons no longer created a sufficient enough barrier.

“Isemaler?” Jack called out.

“Yes?” The spirit answered in a noticeably confused manner.

“Where is the nearest active volcano?”

“About three hours by woolly howl. Why?”

“Damn it, too far,” the Guardian grunted and then increased the volume of his voice. “Are there any lightning dragons nearby?”

“Are you out of your pocking mind?” Astrid shouted at the question.

“That is a dangerous ploy, Jack,” Valka added her discontent with the nascent idea.

“Why, Jack?” Fishlegs ventured to find out.

“The spokelsedrake are kind of lightning thrower, so maybe another kind...”

“You mean a skrill,” Snotlout supplied the species name.

“Maybe a skrill will chase Etuchaand off,” Jack completed.

“Incoming monster!” Groanhilde shouted.

As one the group took one step back, completely locking Jack into the press of their bodies. Isemaler did not wait and sent forth another torrent. The ice crystals glistened with his power. The dragons also started lobbying fire shots at it. Despite what they saw earlier, the gray cloud mass moved backward. The assembled stared in bewilderment.

“What scared it?” Tuffnut asked, and now he sounded worried.

“I think it was Isemaler,” Fishlegs opined. “Look, he is using the staff that thing wants. Maybe something in the way he focuses his power through it scares Aletha...”

“Could you please stick to one name,” Astrid crossly requested.

“That actually makes sense,” Jack spoke from his cramped position as he thought about Fishlegs' statement.

“Isemaler, do you think you've got enough in you to keep firing at Etuchaand for the next two or three hours?” Hiccup inquired.

“I, ah... um, well, I never did that before. I've made it snow all night in a few places, and that really got to Thursar, but I didn't have to make it snow snow. I sort of filled up the clouds with cold and ice crystals,” the spirit explained.

“Who is...” Snotlout began to form a question.

“For a later conversation if we survive,” Hiccup interrupted.

“Incoming!” Valka yelled.

Jack looked above as Isemaler spun around in a circle, halted, and then leveled the crook. A wave of frost power rocketed out of it. Cold drifted over the group, or rather the surrounding heat energy got sucked into the staff to fuel Isemaler's attack. Jack shivered and recalled the times Hiccup made note of the cold when he used to assumed his Guardian form on Halla. Pressure increased in his skull, and he forced himself to ponder the length of time Isemaler could fend off Etuchaand. Jack knew the limits of his own abilities, and he suspected the Hallan Spirit of Winter Joy faced the same.

“Isemaler,” he yelled and sounded muffled by the bodies surrounding him. “Don't use all of your power for every strike. Ration it.”

“Will he run out?” Fishlegs bellowed the question.

“He could, but... well, he might end up freezing all of us solid if he sustains attacks. Feel the temperature around you right now.”

“It is colder,” Valka said first.

“I don't want to get frozen,” Snotlout rumble with concern.

“Me, neither,” Groanhilde added her voice to the sentiment.

“Use half power... or just enough to push Etuchaand back. We need to hold him off ‘til sunset. Can you do that, Isemaler?” Hiccup inquired and mirrored Jack's thoughts.

Before he could answer, Astrid shouted the creature moved again. They waited and watched. As usual, it circled around them. When it got in front of Cloudjumper, it drifted forward. Isemaler shot it with a noticeably less intense blast. Despite the reduction in power, Etuchaand retreated again and continued to float along the perimeter. It seemed they found one answer. However, answers to some only raised questions in others.

“I don't get understand why it would be afraid of the power of the staff?” Fishlegs pondered for all to hear. “If it helped create the staff and used it for as long as you said it did, Jack, then it knows what it can do. It should understand everything about it. Why would it fear it?”

“Fishlegs, I appreciate you wanting to figure it out, but is now the time?” Hiccup again called one of his best friends to task for diverting his any everyone's attention.

“Actually, now may be the best time to figure it out,” Valka countered her son. “Jack, what do you think?”

“I don't know,” Jack openly admitted. “Maybe without a real body it can't withstand the touch of the power. Maybe it feels like a spokelsedrake.”

“He's on the back side of this device thing,” Astrid announced, “but not coming any closer.”

“Okay, fine, but if that's true, it's even more puzzling. How can the staff it created and used harm it now? What's the difference between your world and here?” The stout Viking continued his probe.

“Well, the energy isn't quite exactly the same for starters,” Jack stated the well-known point.

“That's why they gave you this body, so you wouldn't starve... or whatever it is that happens when you can't get the right power into you. Right?”

Hiccup grunted. He knew something troubled Fishlegs about the entire situation, and yet Hiccup could not see to which use they could put the current line of thinking. However, it seemed to distract the others from their fear, so he clamped down on his irritation.

“Yeah, I think that's right. That's one of the reasons why it needs my body,” the Guardian replied and bought into the theory a bit more.

“Wait a second,” Ruffnut chimed. “How can that thing use your body if it kills you. Won't it be dead?”

“It will fuse it's energies in my flesh.”

“How?” Fishlegs blurted. “You're not the same here like you are on Earth. You're not the one who causes the transformation...”

“And another reason it needs Jack's skin,” Hiccup grunted in annoyance. “We know all this, Fishlegs. It will use Jack's body to get back to their world after it takes the staff from Isemaler!”

“So it needs Jack's body to use the staff?” The rotund Viking petulantly inquired.

“Yes,” Jack huffed and started to feel the same as Hiccup.

“Why?”

Under normal circumstances Jack enjoyed the feeling of enlightenment when it struck him like a boulder falling on his head. This time, however, it compounded his state of nervousness. Hiccup continued to argue with Fishlegs that Jack and Etuchaand came from the same place and that it knew Jack got pulled back to Earth once a month. At that moment he became a creature of two worlds, and there in lay the key to puzzle. He at last understood what confounded Fishlegs.

“Hiccup, hold on,” he said and squeezed the man's shoulder to stop him from arguing. “Aletha needs my body because the staff is poisonous to it... sort of.”

“What?” Hiccup, Astrid, and Snotlout said in a chorus.

“The staff is now part of Halla. It changed when I started using it here. It became accustomed to using the energy in this universe,” Jack explained, and Fishlegs let out a squeal. “It can't use the staff right now. It needs the only thing that can exist in both universes to get back home!”

“You!” Hiccup shouted and it came snapping together in his mind.

“I don't get it,” Snotlout grumbled.

“It doesn't want Jack dead: it wants Jack when he starts to transform, and it wants Isemaler nearby when it takes over Jack,” Fishlegs summarized. “We're helping it!”


	14. Chapter 14

Hiccup vowed to never again intrude in Fishlegs' thinking when something got stuck in his friend's head. Whether Etuchaand planned each step, or if a series of coincidences worked in its favor, they put all the parts together to help it return to its native universe. The Viking realized they needed to take apart the puzzle they helped build.

“Isemaler, you need to leave now!” Hiccup shouted.

“Are you crazy? He's the only one keeping this thing back!” Astrid screamed at him.

“It will kill Jack the moment I leave,” Isemaler said with certainty.

“Then it kills me, but it won't be able to get the staff from you,” Jack said in a dark tone. “I can't transform without the power of Father Moon. It'll be just as mortal as I am now, and then the dragons can kill it!”

A hush settled over the group. Even the dragons appeared to sense the dire air around them. Several heads turned to Jack. He faced them. He could see their life, and he realized he would likely need to sacrifice himself in order to keep themselves alive. His resolve began to solidify.

“No. I don't accept this. We can't let it kill him,” Hiccup refuted the idea, and his voice trembled at the same time. “This isn't right. This isn't how it's supposed to end for him. Jack's supposed to die an old man!”

“Hiccup, this may be the only way to stop this thing,” Jack calmly stated. “If I have to die to keep the rest of you alive, then I'll gladly do it. I'm a Guardian, Hiccup. I've always know this could be part of the job.”

“But you're not a Guardian here!” The Viking yelled at him. “You were supposed to be human... mortal... so you could experience a mortal life. This isn't right! It isn't fair!”

“Fair has nothing to do with it.”

Hiccup and Jack stared at one another as the reality of the situation started to wash over them.

“Isemaler,” Jack called out in a loud voice. “Be my friend for the last time and leave!”

“Jack, my duty...”

“Is to the children of this world and not me,” the Earthling interrupted the Hallan. “Go, or Etuchaand wins and you will have failed.”

Jack looked up at the spirit, and the spirit gazed down at him. Isemaler wore the most serious expression Jack ever saw on the face. He nodded to Isemaler. After a second, Isemaler nodded in return. The the Spirit of Winter Joy vanished.

“NO!” Hiccup shouted at the top of his lungs. “No! Get back here you coward!”

“Why did he leave? Why?” Fishlegs begged the question.

“Because he's living up to what's expected of him,” Jack quietly said while he started to feel the pressure build in his skull.

Hiccup stared in horror at Jack as it dawned on him the man willingly orchestrated his own doom. He could not believe the peaceful look on Jack's face. Time after time he admired the courage it took to be a Guardian, especially after what he saw on Earth, but this act eclipsed all others. He watched as Jack slowly sank to his knees while pressing his hands against his head.

“No. I'm not going to let this happen,” Hiccup hollered. “Fishlegs, open the Guardian box door!”

“Why?” Fishlegs quailed.

“Just go do it!” The lean Viking yelled at the larger one.

While Fishlegs jerked into motion with Groanhilde trailing after him, Jack surveyed the faces staring at him. He smiled at the group. He would save them even if it demanded his life in exchange. In the back of his mind, he told Aita he would heed the song with the moment came. More calm washed through him. Jack realized he did not fear death. He experienced it twice and only found the act of dying to be annoyingly painful. Death itself arrived like a quiet whisper, a gentle breeze on the sea.

“You!” Hiccup growled and pointed at Jack. “Get in the box!”

“Hiccup, there's no point...” Jack began to protest.

“Get in that pocking box before I stuff you in there myself,” the Viking leaned in and threatened the Earthling. “The moon rises in just a little while and maybe we can hold that thing off long enough to keep you alive!”

“Then what? I come back and it's still here?” Jack countered.

“It's still a trap, Jack. If it gets desperate enough, it might get too close and get sucked into it!”

“That's an awfully slim chance!”

“It's better than none or simply giving up and dying!”

“He's right, Jack. Any hope is better than no hope. Go and climb in. We'll figure out a way to keep it off of you,” Valka said with her usual reserve.

“I didn't come all this way to let someone die,” Astrid forcefully told him. “I don't care what you are, but I'm not going to let that... whatever that Alachandathema thing is, I'm not going to let it win!”

“Same here,” Snotlout said in a stern manner.

“Me, either,” Fishlegs piped up, and his wife eagerly nodded in approval. They stood at the end of the gronckle iron cabinet and held open the hatch.

“Count us in,” Tuffnut said through his weird smile.

“Yeah, we like a good fight!” Ruffnut gleefully rejoined. “And this looks like it could be a Thorston classic. Does this make him officially our friend, dear brother?”

“I believe he's passed the ritual, oh wise sister of mine. He brought us a gift, a treasure, beyond compare!”

“You two are insane,” Snotlout mumbled, but he smirked all the same.

Jack looked at the faces allied both with and currently against him.

“We're the Defenders of Berk, Jack, and you're part of Berk. It's an occupational hazard facing stuff like this,” Hiccup said in a defiant tone. “Now, go get in the box and let us do what we do.”

Jack opened his mouth to argue, but then he saw the hard glints of in eight sets of eyes. He realized that without his Guardian abilities he could not physically stand up their assembled might. It seemed a forgone conclusion they would, indeed, forcibly cram him inside the Guardian box. He sighed and smiled.

“I love this world... and you people,” he said as raw emotion swirled in his chest.

“Go,” Hiccup commanded him one more time.

Jack turned and began walking toward the Guardian box. He glanced at the faces watching his progress, human and dragon alike. He looked into the eyes of IceSpike and small, secret wish to see them again the next day sprang into his mind. He loved the dragon, and he knew she loved him. Then the Guardian stopped and grew nervous.

“Ah, guys, where's Etuchaand?” Jack inquired of the collective.

“It's... where'd it go?” Snotlout burbled as his head whipped back and forth.

The nine people on the platform spread out and searched. Hiccup carefully checked behind the wall of ice Isemaler created and did not find the entity. It only took a few moments to confirm Etuchaand either left the area or somehow kept itself hid even from dragons.

“Did it go after Isemaler?” Valka hesitantly queried no one in particular.

Hiccup and Jack turned and stared at one another. Then they dragged Fishlegs and Valka into the silent exchange. Groanhilde walked up next to her husband. Hiccup saw it on the woman's face before she opened her mouth.

“You sure this thing needs to get rid of Jack before Isemaler? What if it can still hold onto the staff even though it can't use it?” Groanhilde asked and achieved a new level of profound clarity.

A long pause ensued in which the other Vikings gathered around and waited for an answer. After a minute of silent cogitation, Jack slowly shook his his head. Hiccup shrugged and appeared worried. Groanhilde's questions weighed heavily on them.

“I'm not sure of anything about Etuchaand anymore,” Jack quietly confessed.

“Hope Isemaler can fly faster than it can then,” Groanhilde followed up her questions with the single prescient thought.

“So do I,” Hiccup said and wondered what they would do.

Frequently on Earth Jack would sit in some forlorn, out of the way location and look into the night sky at all the stars. When he did his thoughts often turned to the question of time. It simultaneously fascinated, infuriated, and puzzled him. Over the course of three hundred and fifty years, time felt like an old friend he both knew and barely understood. He once asked the hado'ih what it thought about time, and the answer popped into his mind every so often.

“It is a gift that tells us how much of it there is and how little of it belongs to us,” Leiyís'axt stated that day years ago in the loud yet quietly thoughtful fashion of its kind.

The response tended to slip into his thoughts when Jack faced a certain kind of moment when he wished time would either slow down or speed up. While time could be affected by other forces, to the one perceiving it time never seemed to vary much. It passed at a rate somehow linked to the individual. As the quandary of the missing Etuchaand began to occupy most of his brain, Jack caught of a glimpse of time carrying out it's strangest feat: it seemed both fast and slow.

“What do we do now?” Ruffnut grumbled the question.

“The hardest part of this task,” Jack said as he glanced around.

“We wait,” Hiccup continued. “We wait and watch and pray to the gods Isemaler knows what happened and doesn't get caught.”

“Does he know enough about what you want to do to bring Etuchaand back here when the moon begins to rise?” Valka asked the most unsettling question of all.

“Who knows, but I sure hope so,” Jack replied and did not hide his distress at the possible outcomes.

The Defenders and the Guardian then went about preparing for nightfall. The dragons melted the ice wall Isemaler made and also evaporated what water did not roll off the spire. Hiccup, Jack, and Fishlegs examined the trap. It seemed wiser to let the rest know what they intended to do. It raised a number of questions about Jack they sidelined out of necessity. Jack produced the precious globes that would open the vortex to his world. Nicholas Saint North used them with expert ease. The yeti engraved a number on each one to state the order of use since the second globe they intended for emergency purposes only. Jack stared at them.

“Why a moon and what is that strange house?” Snotlout asked as he peered over Jack's shoulder.

Ruffnut and Tuffnut appeared far too interested in the globes while Jack said: “The vortex to the moon means Father Moon will deal with Etuchaand himself. If that one gets broke or doesn't work, then the second one will send it to Nick's castle, and they will contain Etuchaand there ‘til The Man in the Moon can do something.”

“So all of these friends of yours are just waiting around to see if one of those vortex thingies appears?” Tuffnut inquired, and his eyes lingered on the globes in a very telling manner.

“There's a weird time trick going on, Tuffnut, and only one night will pass there for the four-week moon cycle I spend here. Plus they hooked up sensors and alarms in the area of the castle where the vortex will open. They'll return to that spot within seconds after it forms,” Jack gave a sparse explanation of the most theoretically thorny aspect of his life on two planets.

“I bet you never know what day it is!” Ruffnut exclaimed, and most of the others stared at her in bewilderment.

“Not for the first day or two when I arrive in either place,” the Guardian stated what Hiccup, Fishlegs, and Valka witnessed for ten years running. “When I come back to Halla, it's strange to see Hiccup hasn't missed me at all... but then I remember only one night passed.”

“Yeah, it takes him a while to figure what happened here the day before,” Hiccup confirmed since he repeatedly saw the effect it produced in the Earthling.

“So once he gets to wherever that is, aren't you afraid of what Etuchaand is going to do to your friends, Jack?” Snotlout inquired as he gazed at the orbs with a completely different aspect than the twins.

“Not really. Don't forget I'll be at full strength there like Isemaler is here. Plus, the other Guardians know how to handle themselves... and they've already accepted what could ultimately happen,” Jack told them in a soft voice filled with reverence.

Hiccup looked up at the troubled faces of his friends and said: “How many times did we head out to stop Alvin, Vigo or Johann... even Dagur before he came to his... senses, I guess, and we knew one or all of could get killed in the process?”

“It's not like I ever believed that would happen. Loki was protecting us,” Ruffnut said with total conviction and she picked at her fuzzy overcoat.

“What about during the civil war on Berk?” Her titular leader inquired.

Ruffnut's face went pale as she glanced at her permanently scarred brother. Astrid and Snotlout also appeared greatly disturbed by the memory since they both lost their precious dragons. Hiccup always knew they flew out to face the danger first to spare the others, and he knew the Guardians did exactly the same. The notion sparked a small ember of hope in him that perhaps, despite some of his behaviors, Isemaler now acted in the same vein. Perhaps, the Viking thought, the Hallan spirit emulated what he knew Jack did on Earth. Should that be the case, another thought struck Hiccup.

“Forget about that for a second,” he said and tried to avoid sounding abrasive or dismissive. “We've got to be ready when Isemaler returns ‘cause he will be bringing Etuchaand with him. Does anyone have any questions about what we need to do?”

They discussed for a short while what needed to happen to successfully send the entity back to Earth. It became clear to Jack the Defenders did not fully comprehend all the elements of what he hoped would happen, but he made it abundantly clear he would be both defenseless and useless once he lay in the gronckle iron box and the moon rose. Around them and while the group talked, the skies turned from a muzzy yellow to diffuse orange-gray. Where the clouds met the ocean, and soft ocher orb rested on the eastern horizon. All conversation came to a halt as each person realize what it mean.

“Time to go lay down, Jack,” Hiccup told the Guardian.

Jack did not utter a word, but got up. Fishlegs accompanied him. Jack turned and faced the group as the Viking lifted and held up the door.

“Remember, use the globe marked one first. Just set it in the middle of the doughnut ring,” he told them. “Groanhilde, be ready to set the second globe if anything happens to the first.”

They decided Groanhilde should be the caretaker of the second globe since she would not be wrangling a dragon. That led to the second and perhaps most poignant part. Jack gazed at Snotlout.

“Please, Snotlout, take care of IceSpike. She'll take care of you, I swear it. I need you to do this for me,” Jack half-pleaded.

Even though Snotlout's face contorted and seemed pained, he nodded his head. No one could predict what IceSpike would do with Jack out of sight and in his transformed state. However, should it come down to an aerial fight with Etuchaand, then they would need IceSpike's battle endurance and speed. While not entirely as fast as Toothless nor as nimble, she could outlast him in a protracted fight. Coupling her with a man who avoided dragons like a deadly illness, save Heeboo, seemed a long-shot, but their options ran short.

After holding Snotlout's gaze for a few more moments, Jack turned to Hiccup. His head dipped slightly, and the Viking returned the gesture. Then, with only the sound of the ocean and the wind in his ears, Jack dropped down and climbed into the silvery metal chamber. The hatch closed with a definitive clank. The Guardian lay down and rolled onto his back. He stared at the dark interior of the chamber. He could hear nothing else beside the beat of his heart and the rush of blood in his ears. From this moment on, he thought, the future of Halla lay in the hands of the Defenders of Berk and one irascible elemental spirit. Jack closed his eyes and waited for the strange languor to begin spreading through his body. He could already feel the first edge of it advancing on him, and Jack guessed the sun dropped lower and lower.

Out in the dwindling light, the Defenders ran around and lit torches. The flames danced in the wind as the metal handles got jammed into the makeshift sconces that got attached the day before on any upright piece of rock left on the plateau. The sputtering light provided uneven illumination across the flat surface on which they and the trap stood. Hiccup stood at one side and watched the sun. Only a small hump remained above the horizon, and that disappeared fast. Finally, only the lingering rays below the horizon filtered through the clouds.

“Groanhilde, place the orb into the trap,” he instructed the woman.

Fishlegs gazed at his wife while he stood by Meatlug, as the other riders also stood by their dragons, as the woman walked to the odd contraption. Jack thoughtfully thought to make a small set of steps since reaching the interior of the energy storage doughnut might be a hair out of reach of either him or Hiccup. Groanhilde climbed the steps, carefully cradling the otherworldly snow globe in her hands. Everyone watched as he she extended it forward and placed it the assigned spot. No one could see the globe over the edge of the doughnut. The Viking woman climbed down and returned to her husband. He handed her the second snow globe to be used in an emergency. As she did with the first, Groanhilde cradled it against her ample chest.

“Snotlout, do you see the moon yet?” Hiccup asked in a loud voice.

“Not yet. Kind of hard to see with all those clouds in the way,” the man replied.

“It's gonna be a full moon, so you'll notice it,” Fishlegs told him.

While Snotlout looked out over the western edge if the stone rise, IceSpike went and sat next to the chamber where Jack lay. Regardless of fifteen years of debate, the Vikings never found a way to accurately assess the intelligence of dragons. Some species seemed more intuitive than others while a few displayed an extraordinary cleverness. One fact did present itself as humans and dragons learned to live together: those dragons partnered with a person appeared much smarter than their wild counterparts. Thus, it did not seemed unusual that IceSpike knew where her rider lay.

Time seemed to pass slowly as the carrot-colored eastern horizon darkened. In the west, trace of a different light began to appear. Hiccup tensed.

“Okay, get ready. Jack should be starting to change by now!” Hiccup warned the others.

The moon neared the horizon, and the area where it would crest grew brighter by the second. A minute into the moonrise saw a change in the trap: it began to vibrate. IceSpike slouched away from it while casting a wary eye. The Guardian box started to glow with a subtle, almost imperceptible sheen. At an indeterminate point on or near the steel energy storage doughnut, a buzzing sound started. Everyone looked around. Then, from a distance in the west, something like a yell drifted toward them.

“Is that...?” Astrid began to ask, but stopped short.

She got her answer when the translucent image of Isemaler went speeding by the pinnacle of the The Finger of the Gods. He attempted to shout something to the people below, but they could not make out the words. The Spirit of Winter Joy arched into a wide banking turn at a terrific speed.

“Sweet Vili, get down!” Fishlegs yelled.

The tone of his voice demanded instant compliance, and eight bodies lay sprawled out on the plateau. At head level the gray mass of Etuchaand went sailing by in seeming pursuit of Isemaler. Hiccup realized they got at least one answer: Isemaler could outrun the ancient being. He thought it due to this being the spirit's native dimension, as Jack would likely say. The Viking also factored in that the spirit enjoyed flying like a crazed dragon pumped up gallons on Jack's not-really-coffee coffee. Isemaler never flew anywhere that did not involve his top speed, unless he happened to be soaring with mortals. Etuchaand, however, appeared to doggedly pursue.

The buzzing of the trap grew louder as the shine around the Guardian box grew brighter. Hiccup jumped to his feet and called Toothless to his side. He hypothesized that Etuchaand would notice the trap sooner rather than later, and they needed to wait until the vortex opened. The rider of the night fury glanced around as his mother and friends picked themselves up from the ground.

“Get your dragon and circle the trap,” he yelled out to them. “When that thing notices what's happening, it's coming after Jack! We need to keep Etuchaand away from him!”

The looks of fierce determination he saw on the faces of the others heartened him. They scrambled to reach the device, and then loosely arranged themselves around it. Hiccup saw the furtive glances they swapped. After all, Etuchaand no longer feared dragons. It did not seem like they could do much to protect Jack. However, Hiccup planned on doing whatever it took to ensure the Guardian's plan reached fruition. He hoped no one would suffer or, worse yet, become a casualty in the fight. Hence, as a group they waited and watched.

Inside the Guardian box Jack fell into the deep lethargy the accompanied the initial stages of the transformation. He groggily thought the state protected him while he underwent dramatic physical changes. Muffled voices from the outside reached his ears. It sounded like shouting, but his dazed condition denied him the faculties to make any sort of determination. Just before he drifted into the final and deepest form of malaise that accompanied the transition, Jack reminded himself it could take a while as the trap needed to siphon power from him and then the vortex needed to be opened. He though about collecting as much energy into his body as he could. It proved his last conscious thought.

“How long can he keep going at that speed?” Groanhilde asked as they watched Isemaler complete another large circuit around the Finger.

“Him? A week or two, I think,” Hiccup answered and gave it his best guess. “He bragged one time about flying around the world twice without stopping.”

“He seems to know what he's doing ‘cause that thing can't catch him,” Snotlout said aloud what they all could see.

Hiccup nodded.

“Oh, son of my mother?” Ruffnut said in a rather sing-song fashion. “Perhaps we should invite the one called Isemaler to participate in the Thorston friend ritual.”

“Daughter of my father, he clearly has an unfair advantage. He doesn't even have to use a dragon to fly,” Tuffnut replied. “As least Jack is bound to the ground.”

“You two do know this could turn into a serious and deadly fight, right?” Snotlout badgered the twins.

“Of course they know, and they're probably looking forward to it,” Astrid answered for them.

“Just because a person might be sent to Valhalla, it doesn't mean one should stop planning for the future,” Ruffnut delivered her response in a rather haughty manner.

“Actually, that's not bad thinking,” Hiccup said before Astrid could respond as hotly as she looked. “It's weirdly optimistic.”

“Well, you got the weird part right,” Fishlegs commented while moving few inches away from Tuffnut.

“Do you all just revert back to what you were at the age of fifteen?” Valka inquired in a very adult fashion.

“I think it's hard-baked into us by now, Mom,” her son rejoined.

“Does sort of feel like old times,” Snotlout remarked.

“Those who do not learn from their history will probably live through something kind of similar if you ignore all the stuff that isn't the same... even if it's a lot. Sometimes it's just the name of...”

“Isemaler is coming around again!” Astrid interrupted Tuffnut and informed them.

Behind them, the group heard a loud popping sound, and it felt like a small tornado sucked at them. The dragons bugled while the people whipped around and stared in a mix of awe and terror. A large circle, big enough for Cloudjumper to crawl through, hovered over the device that glowed with near white light. The circle looked like a vertical whirlpool, except the colors of the interior ranged from purple to black. The vortex also issued a rather frightening grinding and hissing sound. It seemed ominous. Hiccup recalled seeing one just like it ten years before when he got held in a prison cell. From it stepped one of the most amazing persons he ever met. Thus, he knew the trap could work if all the parts fell together in just the right order.

“It's open!” He shouted, and then spun around. “Isemaler! Lead it here. Lead Etuchaand here! The vortex is open!”

“Great gods,” Astrid exclaimed as she stared in what could only be describe as disbelief at the portal.

It appeared she spoke for her colleagues and friends. They appeared stricken dumb as they gaped at the hole in reality as they understood it. Even Valka who normally and rapidly collected her wits stood with her mouth slightly ajar. Fishlegs looked as if he gibbered to himself while his wife just froze into place. Snotlout seemed in a trance. Of them all, only the twins looked on with what amounted to real curiosity on their faces. Hiccup attributed their lack complete astonishment to decades spent believing in all manner of nonsense. All of the riders and dragons seemed mesmerized by the vortex swirling above the storage doughnut. 

“Isemaler!” Hiccup yelled again at the top of his lungs.

In the distance the figure of the Hallan Spirit of Winter Joy executed a perfect hairpin turn mid-air. He rocketed past Etuchaand who got forced to change direction as well. In the back of his mind Hiccup grudgingly admitted the mortal Grimtooth Skovaks would make an excellent dragon rider. Like Jack, the Hallan spirit appeared made to soar through the air. He came barreling toward The Finger of the Gods at top speed. Etuchaand trailed a fair distance behind, but also at an impressive speed. Their angle shifted as they lost altitude. It took a few moments of trajectory calculation, but Hiccup realized Isemaler intended to lead Etuchaand right into the trap at an extraordinary speed. It made sense to the Viking: the vile entity did not appear to control its flight with the same dexterity as Isemaler and would likely be unable to change course in time avoid the vortex.

“Faster!” Hiccup yelled when he deduced what he believed Isemaler intended. “Crap!”

Hiccup ducked down as the two immaterial beings neared the plateau flying level with the trap. It stunned him when he did not hear a sound as they sailed overhead and Isemaler suddenly pulled into a straight vertical ascent at the edge of the steel doughnut. Etuchaand did not correct course. Hiccup and the other Vikings watched as it appeared the creature would sail into the roiling void, but it dipped lower. A second later the sound of breaking glass issued though the air. The vortex sputtered once and ceased to exist accompanied by a deafening whistling noise. A concussive force hit the assembled and drove human and beast alike backward and onto the stone floor. The light shining from the trap perfectly illuminated the fact the vortex no longer exited.

“No! No! Get up! Groanhilde, get up!” Hiccup shouted as he struggled to his feet. “Set the second globe!”

Overhead the grand chase continued with Isemaler nothing but a faint blue-white outline high in the sky. Logic dictated Etuchaand continued to follow. Hiccup ran around trying to rouse his family and friends who appeared dazed by the sudden and violent dissolution of the vortex. He looked to Groanhilde first, and she thankfully continued to clasp the globe to her breast. Hiccup assisted her to her feet. She stared at him with wide eyes.

“How'd it do that?” She begged the question. “It's not solid... is it?”

“It must be if it could break the globe or maybe it knows something about them we don't,” he rejoined. “Come on, hurry. We've got to get the other one in place.”

Groanhilde hugged the object closer to her and turned slightly to the side in a protective stance and said: “Won't it do the same thing to this one? What if it breaks this?”

With each passing day it became increasingly clear why Fishlegs married Groanhilde, or rather she consented to wed him. While the woman did not possess the vast stores of knowledge as her husband, and that put her on par with everyone else on Berk, but she harbored a presence of mind equal to Fishlegs. She thought as quickly on her feet as any person Hiccup knew, including Jack. She dismissed idle thought for the most part and could delve to the heart of a matter with the best thinkers in the land. Moreover, Groanhilde also proved as very good cook, and that ranked so far down her list of attributes Hiccup almost felt embarrassed he included it.

“That... is a good thought,” Hiccup slowly said.

Around them the others gathered near. To a person they looked exceptionally concerned, especially Fishlegs. Hiccup could not imagine why they never thought Etuchaand would simply break the globe to avoid the trap. It seemed too easy. Hence, they needed a new strategy, as Groanhilde indirectly pointed out.

“Anyone got a plan?” He asked when his brain failed to come up with a scheme.

Dragon riders and even the dragons glanced to and fro at each other. Puzzled expression abounded in the group. Hiccup watched as the worry on their faces compounded. It came down to a rough choice for the leader of the group.

“Astrid, you're best at defensive thinking. What do you think we should do?” Hiccup asked the woman to whom he hardly spoke for a decade.

“I... how? How did it break it?” She asked first, and then shook her head. “Doesn't matter. We know it can do it now. Jack must've thought the same thing or why else would he bring a second one?”

No one argued the question.

“It must've been physical in order to do that,” the Viking warrior-woman said and clearly to herself. “So we need a shield. One of us is going to have to physically protect it.”

Stunned expression met her conclusion.

“I'll do it,” Hiccup said and looked in the sky. “At least Isemaler can keep it occupied while we get ready.”

“How are you going to stop from getting sucked into that... hole in whatever it is?” Fishlegs inquired and his voice trembled. “Won't you get pulled to his world?”

“Wouldn't be the first time, you know,” Hiccup said and frowned since he did not entirely look forward to a repeat of the experience.

The faces staring at him, except two, turned aghast. Fishlegs and Valka adopted a similar expression as Hiccup. They alone knew he once traveled to Earth, and the stories of his imprisonment horrified them. Like Hiccup, they viewed Earth as a dangerous place and it reconfigured their estimations of Jack and what he did as a Guardian. Seconds slipped by them as they thought in silence.

“Couldn't you strap yourself to Toothless and have him wrap his wings around the round tube thing?” Snotlout hesitantly suggested. “Then even if you do get dragged to Jack's world, at least you'll have your dragon with you?”

Hiccup blinked in surprise because, first, he wished he thought of it, and, second, Snotlout produced the idea. His head started to slowly nod as he considered the varying aspects of the ploy. Moment by moment it made perfect sense.

“Wha-a-a-a-a-a!” Isemaler's voice yelled as he and the chasing Etuchaand whipped by the group and the trap.

The Vikings and dragons all started and jumped a little.

“That'll work, Snotlout. Thanks. Astrid... thanks,” he said to his two friends. “Toothless!”

While the dragon came to heel next to him, Astrid gave him a fierce look and said: “Don't get killed.”

“I'll try to keep that in mind,” Hiccup replied.

“I'm serious, Hiccup. I still think you're a complete jerk, but Berk needs you... and we need whatever it is that's lying in that trap thing.”

“You mean Jack?”

She scowled and nodded.

“That's... actually very kind of you to say. He'd be pleased to hear it.”

“Then make sure both of you get back here alive!” Astrid rounded on him.

The others murmured their agreement. Hiccup glanced at his friends. Only hours before they learned Jack did not come from Berk and not even the same planet. They also discovered a Hallan now served in the capacity of what they once believed to be a child's fantasy. Finally, they got hit with knowledge a malevolent being sought to do in both Jack and Isemaler with the added possibility of extending that destruction to the whole of their world. Yet even though it terrified them, and Hiccup saw the real fear in their eyes, they rallied in defense of their world. In that moment Hiccup resolved that, should they live through the next few hours, he would make a concerted effort to reunite the Defenders of Berk and restore the friendships that got lost over the years.

“I love you all, too,” he quietly said and slapped the thick of his dragon.

“So, Hiccup, what's it like having sex with...” Ruffnut started to say.

“Ruffnut! Stop! Now is not that time for that question. I don't think there'll ever be a good time for it,” Astrid shouted down the woman.

In true Thorston fashion, Ruffnut broke the tension. It freed them to move and do what needed to be done. Hiccup actually started to laugh, and soon most of the others chuckled as well. He saw his mother roll her eyes and shake her head.

“It's an occupational hazard, Mom,” Hiccup told her in an effort to explain Ruffnut's demeanor.

“Apparently so,” Valka said through a grin.

“Alright. Snotlout's plan wins and Ruffnut's question loses,” he said to the assembled.

“Spoil sport,” Tuffnut grumbled and nudged his sister with an elbow.

Hiccup did not engage them in the debate. Instead, he made a quick inspection of Toothless' saddle, and tightened to chest harness and billet strap. Then he climbed aboard. He made sure to fasten himself tightly to the saddle since he did not want to be on Earth without Toothless if worse should come to worst. Once secured, he turned to Groanhilde.

“Wait until Toothless and me are situated on the tube and he's hugging it,” he told her. “Then place the globe in the trap... and get away as quick as you can.”

Groanhilde bobbed her head in understanding.

“One of you need to call to Isemaler and tell him to fly at the trap again.”

All eyes turned to Snotlout.

“What?” He asked the assembled.

“You do have the biggest mouth,” Tuffnut blandly stated.

“And the biggest lungs,” his sister added.

“They do have a point, Snotlout,” Fishlegs concurred in a roundabout manner.

“Fine. I'll start shouting at the ghost,” the man agreed.

“He's not a ghost, Snotlout,” Hiccup automatically said, and memories of Gobber went charging through his head. “Okay, Toothless, up!”

The dragon's wings unfolded and the others scattered out of the way. With a down stroke and a kick, the beast and passenger became airborne. Hiccup carefully guided the night fury, and the dragon appeared uncertain of what to do, until it lay straddled over the steel doughnut. He did not need to ask Toothless to wrap his wings around it: the dragon needed to do so in order to keep from sliding off. After a few seconds to make certain they remained firmly attached, Hiccup nodded to both Groanhilde and Snotlout.

“Wait ‘til I'm away from this thing before you start spouting off. Got it?” She said to the man and left no room for dissension.

“Yes, ma'am,” Snotlout said and only appeared mildly aggrieved.

While Groanhilde performed her task and Snotlout trotted to the center of the plateau, Hiccup lay down against the sturdy neck of the dragon. He wrapped his arms around it and held on tight. It brought him a small sense of safety and surety.

“This could get bumpy, bud,” he whispered to his best winged friend. “Hold on with all you've got.”

Ten seconds later the absurdly loud popping sound ripped through the air, the world felt like it would get sucked into tomorrow, and Snotlout began shouting. The buzzing and grinding noise of the vortex nearly masked his voice in full. When the hole in reality reached its apex, it started to pull against the man and the dragon. Hiccup and Toothless held on with all their might. Hiccup squeezed his eyes shut to avoid watching the risky plan they concocted take shape. He started to count down in his head. When he reached five, he heard the others begin to shout, but the horrendous noise of the vortex drowned out the words. Then Hiccup heard something that defied his imagination.

“Ha! Ha! Made it!” An exuberant, youthful voice shouted. “This feels so weird!”


	15. Chapter 15

Hiccup opened his eyes and took in a sight missing on Halla for almost ten years. A young man with shaggy, waving, white hair, dressed in a sky-blue hooded sweatshirt with distinctive frost patterns on the shoulders and arms, and wearing leather britches and no shoes floated four feet above the stone floor. His pale left hand a held crook of slightly gnarled-looking wood, and it gleamed with frost power. It also looked exactly like a different crook held by a different spirit who currently soared through the sky with a nightmare of a creature giving chase.

“Jack! What... how...” Hiccup hollered, and then both man and dragon slid off the doughnut-shaped energy storage container.

While Hiccup and Toothless picked themselves off the floor, the rest of the people and dragons on the platform of The Finger of the Gods stared at the floating elemental man. Jack grinned at them, and then waved when they did not react and seemed frozen in place. Finally, Valka stepped forward.

“Jack, aren't you lying in the bottom box?” She asked the first and most salient question.

“Well, yes... part of me is. It's quantum trick...”

“And stop right there,” Hiccup said as he gazed at the Guardian. “Any more than that and none of us will know what you're talking about.”

“I get it,” Fishlegs mumbled.

“Right now you need to get up there and help Isemaler. He's been leading Etuchaand around so he wouldn't mess with the trap again,” the senior male dragon rider told him.

“Etuchaand broke the first globe,” Fishlegs added.

“I know. We saw the first vortex open on the moon two days ago. Then it disappeared and the one in the Nick's castle opened this morning. We decided they should stay back for Etuchaand's arrival while I came here to help,” Jack relayed.

“How can that be Jack?” Astrid rumbled as she snapped out of her shock.

“Know how a needle can pass through two pieces of cloth and drag a piece of thread along? It makes the pieces of cloth act like one piece, but they're still separate,” Jack said before either Hiccup or Fishlegs could interject. “Right now the trap is like the needle and my body is like the thread. I just finished creating the loop.”

“Yeah, that kind of makes sense,” Groanhilde said and bobbed her head.

“So if we looked in the bottom box...?” Tuffnut begged the question.

“Then you would see a smokey, hazy, shadow-like form of my body that I use here. Most of me went to Earth, but some of me has to stay so I can get back.”

With the exception of Fishlegs, six heads swung back and forth to glance at one another. Hiccup knew they checked to see if any of them either believed or understood what Jack said. He understood the basic principles involved, but he did not want to get the team distracted. One of their members still needed help.

“Ah, what about Isemaler?” Hiccup crossly reminded them.

“Right, yeah. Hold on,” Jack sputtered, and then darted into the sky faster than the others could follow. With the vortex open, he maintained access to his native source of energy.

“Wait a second. Is he at full power?” Fishlegs inquired while staring upward.

Jack proved it by reaching Isemaler in a matter of seconds. He flew next to the Hallan spirit who eyed him in wonder, and then broke out into a huge smile. Jack smirked.

“Hello, brother,” he said and nodded his head.

“Brother?” Isemaler half-whispered.

“You do have to admit we look and act alike.”

Jack witness an amazing transformation come over Isemaler. The Hallan Spirit of Winter Joy glowed brighter in response, once more proving Isemaler's powers linked to his emotional state. Isemaler whooped once, twisted into a corkscrew pattern, and sped up.

“Okay, good,” Jack said. “Now, we're going to lead that thing down there and into the trap.”

“Think it'll fall for it?” Isemaler inquired with a little less enthusiasm.

“Aletha wants your staff and he wants me, so it will at least follow us. If we can get it near the trap, we can get into the trap.”

“All right, lead the way... brother!”

Jack never realized the impact a single word could have on the Hallan spirit. It seemed to fuel the elemental young man. He understood why. Jack worked for centuries to get children to notice him, and the face of Jamie Bennett flashed through his mind. His mortal friend served as a validation. It appeared his showing kinship to Isemaler provided the same level of validation. Privately, Jack thought he only spoke the truth. They did, after all, share much in common when Jack assumed his Guardian form.

“There! Right next to where Hiccup and Toothless are standing. Aim for that spot,” Jack said and pointed his crook at the spot far below them.

Once Isemaler signaled he understood, the two elemental young men stood on their heads in the air and rocketed toward The Finger like shooting stars. Neither felt any friction or wind since they traveled in their immaterial forms. The ground seemed to leap up at Jack, and it gave him a momentary sense of thrill. He saw his friends standing on the rock watching their progress. A second later he and Isemaler halted their descent with an abrupt stop, and one that would kill a mortal. The two spirits hovered a few inches above the ground. It took Jack a moment to realize no one, not even Hiccup, ever saw the two of them together in their elemental skin.

“You guys look so much alike,” Fishlegs warbled.

“Like brothers!” Isemaler happily exclaimed.

“Yeah, you could definitely pass for brothers. I forgot how much...” Hiccup started to say.

“NAAGH!” The Hallan spirit suddenly shouted, wrapped his arms around his head and sank to the ground.

“Great Odin!” Jack wheezed as a tremendous force tried to invade his head. It felt like something beat on his skull with Mjolnir. “Gods, Etuchaand is around here somewhere.”

Jack's feet touched the ground, and he felt his knees begin to buckle. Hiccup ran to his side and tried to keep him upright, but the assault on Jack moved much faster. The Guardian wheezed and landed on his hands and knees. He stared at the stone as his vision turned blurry. In his periphery he could see Isemaler locked into a silent scream as the Hallan Spirit of Winter Joy curled into a ball. His staff, Twinetender, lay at his side. Jack instinctively wrapped his fingers as tightly as he could around his staff.

“Find it. Distract it,” Jack heaved out the words. His arms and legs lost whatever power remained in them, and he fell flat against the stone. It felt as though his crook tried to slip from his hand, and he used the last of his energy to keep it next to him.

“Oh, gods! It's over there,” Astrid said in a voice riven with fear and she pointed to the side of the platform opposite of the trap.

The Vikings to a person turned to face the gray mass that looked more or less humanoid. In the back of his mind, Hiccup thought Pulhu looked more real than what floated at the edge of the stone dais. The different hues of gray confused the eye, and the clouds behind it only added to the befuddlement. Real fear gripped Hiccup as he saw how easily the being attacked both Jack and Isemaler.

“Toothless,” he shouted, “plasma shot!”

A blue ball of incendiary death shot out of the night fury. Etuchaand did not get out of the way. Part of the plasma bolt exploded and the rest passed around the strange entity. It did not appear to suffer any harm. A loud gasp issued from the assembled mortals. Even a few of the dragons hissed in surprise. As though it proved the point, Etuchaand started to drift toward them. No one needed to tell Hiccup the creature did not fear them like they feared it. It moved forward with soundless surety. The perfect silence of the thing unnerved Hiccup even more.

“Stop... it,” Jack forced the words out of his mouth. Not only did the pressure continue to increase against his skull, his entire body felt like a mountain tried to press him flat.

“I don't know how,” Hiccup admitted the awful truth.

“Staff... Isem...” the Guardian coughed as his head lay against stone like an immovable object.

Hiccup bucked up the last of his courage. He stood in a crouch, trotted around the form of Jack to where Isemaler sprawled in visibly horrific agony. Despite wanting to lend whatever aid he could to the Hallan spirit, Hiccup fought his instincts and grabbed the staff laying next to the prone form. A cold unlike any he experienced since he got freed from the Earth prison lanced through his hands. He stood and faced Etuchaand. Then he aimed the staff at the entity. The being halted.

“How do I use this thing?” He begged the Guardian for an answer as the Hallan spirit looked completely incapacitated.

“Can't... not for mortal... hands,” Jack delivered the unfortunate news. “Throw... away!”

The Viking did not need to be told twice. Back in his youth he trained to throw spears when dragon attacks seemed all they could expect in the future. He heard Gobber telling him to grab the shaft just below the middle point, retract his arm until is pointed straight back from his shoulder, and then throw with his upper torso and not his arm. The arm simply guided the spear and added the last kinetic force as it left the hand. Although not perfect, Hiccup managed to launch the staff toward the nearest edge of the platform. It sailed to it, and then over. Without a sound Etuchaand chased it.

“Hu-u-u-u-u-h,” Jack inhaled although he did not really need to breath. It came as a bodily memory reflex. “Not much time! Cover Isemaler.”

“Cover?” Hiccup muttered.

“Climb on... top. Human shield!”

The Viking wasted not time. He stood, pointed at his stunned Hallan family and friends, and said: “Everyone, pile on Isemaler now! NOW!”

The second imperative he yelled so loud it broke through the fear-induced paralysis. Bodies, both human and reptile, surged forward in a pell-mell fashion. It seemed clear they reacted by way of shock value and a young adulthood spent listening to Hiccup's commands. The Vikings and dragons wordlessly complied. Three seconds later they began to throw themselves at Isemaler, and soon of jumble of arms, heads, legs, tails, and wings hid the Hallan spirit from view. At the same time, Jack pushed himself to his hands and knees, and then to his feet.

“Good, good,” he panted. “It's confusing Ale...”

“Etuchaand!” Astrid grumbled.

“Right. It's confusing Etuchaand. Don't move no matter what happens. Got it!”

“Why can you move all of sudden?” Groanhilde's muffled voice rose up from the heap of bodies.

“Etuchaand is trying to find... shit!”

Those who could saw the gray humanoid form float over the edge of the platform. Within one of its semblances of a hand it held the staff. An irregular sheen flicked along the surface of the crook. Jack braced himself for another assault while a groan of dismay rose up from the bodies obscuring the Hallan spirit. He expected an immediate assault, but it did not arrive. Vapor started to rise from his staff as he channel an enormous reserve of energy into it.

“J-J-ack. You're g-g-going to f-freeze us to d-d-death,” Valka stuttered.

Jack answered by moving away, but kept Etuchaand clearly in his sights. The being appeared to sense what the Earth spirit did and continued to face him. They circled one another. Jack stepped forward toward it while consuming vast forces from the vortex. His body felt almost overcharged. He raised and pointed his staff at the being. It floated backward toward the edge of the plateau.

“I'm ready for this,” Jack snarled at the being. Pressure began to build up around his body, but the sheer monumental amount of energy amassed in his form pushed back.

Etuchaand lifted Twinetender and aimed the crook at him.

“Take your best shot, you pocking shabby imitation of Elada!” The Guardian howled.

His words appeared to affect the entity. The staff in Etuchaand's hand sparkled for a few seconds, and then a blast of force hurled form the end of it. It shot out too fast for Jack to dodge, and it felt like someone threw a bowling ball into his side. He grunted as he flew sideways from the impact. It hurt like little he experienced before, and it seemed oddly physical. Jack grunted and righted himself.

“Okay,” he wheezed as he stretched his side. “My turn.”

Before he even finished the words, Jack aimed his staff and unleashed a wild torrent of energy. It warped the air around it while lancing toward the being like a bolt of lightening. The horizontal column of force struck Etuchaand in the shoulder of the arm-like appendage that grasped Twinetender. The gray mass contorted, and the staff dropped to the stone beneath. It clattered with an echo.

“Holy Frigga, he hurt it!” Hiccup exclaimed from where he lay entwined with the others and protected Isemaler.

Even though he wanted to beam a grin at Hiccup, Jack refrained and sent another blast at Etuchaand. It landed dead center of the being and knocked it backward twenty feet. Etuchaand floated in the open air off the platform. Jack took the opportunity. He flew as fast as he could, faster than human eyes could see, and went after Twinetender before Etuchaand recovered. Jack grabbed the staff, but it slipped out of his hand. He tried, and once more found he could not hold onto it. The Guardian tried to make sense of the reaction.

“I can't grab it!” He yelled more at himself than the others.

“It doesn't belong to you,” Fishlegs said after he poked his head out from under Astrid's armpit. “You even said so yourself: it's attuned for....”

Jack craned his head around to see why his friend halted mid-sentence. Fishlegs gazed far into the distance, his eyes focused on a part far from The Finger of the Gods. He looked, for lack of better terms, amazed.

“Fishlegs!” Jack called out, and in his periphery he saw Etuchaand emerge over the stone edge for a second time.

“Let him have it, Jack. Let him take the staff!” The stout Viking should.

“Are you out of you mind!” Snotlout rejoined.

“Seems kind of reckless. Should be interesting,” Tuffnut remarked as though performing an experiment.

“Could kill us, brother of mine,” Ruffnut replied.

“But to die in battle...”

“I don't want to die in battle, you muck-brained idiots! I don't want to die at all!” Astrid shouted them down.

“Etuchaand'll kill Isemaler with it!” Jack reminded his brilliant friend.

He saw a concerned expression cross the round, wide face.

“Jack, fly!” Hiccup told him.

The idea soared into his head, he grabbed the Hallan staff, and he made to soar into the sky. Twinetender slipped out of his hand again. It clattered on the platform below. As though caught in a slingshot, Jack tumbled far and high into the air once the restraining effect of the staff disappeared. He righted himself and flew toward The Finger at top speed. Etuchaand reached the staff first, and then leveled a blast at him. Jack easily dodged it, and then the second and third ones. Jack raced as fast as he could when he saw the entity aimed the crook at the pile of bodies. With his crook extended before him, he let loose with a shot. It only served to knock Etuchaand off balance. However, it gave the Guardian enough time to place himself between the staff and his loved ones.

“You can't kill me,” Jack shouted at the being. “You might be able to hurt me, but you can't kill me. You know that... and I know your secret now. Fishlegs gave it away.”

Etuchaand did not move, but that only heightened the menace that emanated from it.

“You've been here too long, Aletha. How many millions of years? You changed. You adapted. You had to or you would've died. It's the only reason why you can use that staff.”

The creature aimed it at him again.

“Go ahead and try it, but don't forget enough of you is like me so I can do the same thing to you. I might not be able to kill you, but I can hurt you,” Jack told the thing.

It aimed the staff at the portal.

“Fine, destroy the only way you have back to our universe. I will gladly die here knowing you're going to die with me. I'll hunt you down to the ends of this galaxy and beyond ‘til you fade to nothing,” the Guardian said in a fierce, steady voice.

For the first time Etuchaand paused and seemed confused, at least it looked that way to Hiccup and Jack. The end of the crook waved about in a small circle as though it could not decide where to aim the next shot. Various fears and worries washed through Jack, but he pushed them aside. He needed a clear mind. Hiccup saw the telltale frown on the elemental young man's face. He knew Jack debated exactly how the next few moments would evolve. It made Hiccup more nervous as a result.

“I don't know what you are, but I know my Father Moon stopped being like you long before anyone or anything can remember. I know he feels guilt and sorrow over what he did. I know he gave up his freedom to send you here and keep your body away from the Earth. He fell in love with life, Aletha, and you hate him for that,” Jack said and hoped the words would further confound the being.

The Guardian held up his staff. It gleamed and rippled with an immense amount of power. He aimed it at Etuchaand. The creature appeared to study him for a moment. Then it performed the one act Jack feared the most: it pointed the staff directly at Hiccup's head. Twinetender started to glow in an uneven fashion.

Jack lifted his and aimed it at Etuchaand's head. White light raced up and down the length of wood. Particles of ice fell away from it. He floated forward until the staff hovered only inches away from the head-like bump on the shoulder-like area of the body-like structure of the thing. Jack chuckled in an angry and dark manner.

“Do it, and I will remove your head. It won't end you, but what will it really do to you, huh? How much of yourself can you afford to lose? How much is left after all those eons in a universe that can't keep you alive?”

Although the Twinetender did not move, both Hiccup and Jack could tell the thing hesitated. Although it seemed unlikely at the time, Jack's initial experiences on Halla taught him valuable lessons. He turned them against Etuchaand more effectively than his own staff. Hiccup began to understand that even immense power reached a limit sooner or later. Even though such thoughts did not serve well at the moment, the Viking became astounded Jack willingly gave up a similar power to remain on Halla. It clearly defined him as something uniquely distinct from Etuchaand even though they shared similar sources. He recalled that Elada told Jack the Guardian would return to Earth so much more than he where he began.

Etuchaand, however, appeared to hold a different idea. It continued to aim the staff at the heap of Vikings protecting the Hallan spirit. Twinetender glowed for a moment, and a hazy cloud of force sprang outward. It sent the bodies scattering around the platform. Snotlout, Valka, and Stormwing almost slid off the edge. The dragons kept the three from doing so. On the ground lay Isemaler, he remained wrapped around himself, and it seemed clear even the flesh piled on him did not ease the torment.

“Leave him alone. He's got nothing to do with this,” Jack told Etuchaand, and he hoped it served as a warning.

Once more the mottled gray entity paused. It seemed to be weighing its options. As though an afterthought, the end of the staff radiated with an unusual silvery light. Jack guessed Etuchaand tapped into its own well of energy. Seconds later a silent explosion of radiance blinded Jack. He heard the others gasp and yelp in fright. Jack instinctively ducked his head, but he also set loose the force contained in his staff. The air crackled as it froze. The sound of wood clattering on the stone reverberated.

“Now!” Jack yelled even though he could barely see. “Someone knock it into the portal.”

“Toothless, attack!” Hiccup yelled.

“Barf, Belch, headbutt!” Ruffnut commanded the zippleback as her brother cheered her on.

“Stormwing, spike flurry!” Astrid's voice rose above there.

“Cloudjumper, wind!” Valka shouted.

“Meatlug, body slam,” Fishlegs ordered the gronckle.

“IceSpike, shoot!” Snotlout hollered.

As one the dragons assaulted Etuchaand. Hiccup watched as the night fury kicked out at the being with powerful back legs and knocked it off balance. In the midst of flying deadly nadder projectiles, two round green heads swept the legs of the being. Meatlug hurled through the air as if shot from a ballista, and collided into the back of the gray, nebulous body. Cloudjumper reared up, spread all four of his wings, and began to flap. A gale like a hurricane whipped at all the bodies. Finally, an ice ball the size of small boulder hit Etuchaand square on the backside.

Hiccup thought in that moment the being, powerful though it might be, underestimated both the dragons and their riders. Fear could lead to inaction. Fear could also lead to inappropriate action. However, a lifetime spend training against fear let the Defenders of Berk act in concert and step through their fear. The body of Etuchaand spun and twirled from the multiple engagements. It seemed likely the fact its head went missing also played a significant role. The gusts Cloudjumper raised blew it toward the trap and the swirling vortex. Meatlug hit again, as did Toothless seconds later. Etuchaand lifted off the ground and sailed toward churning dark hole in reality.

Jack heard the ethereal sucking sound. He watched Aletha spin uncontrollably toward the trap. The pride he felt in the abilities of his friends and their aerial mounts surged through him. He hoped they felt it as well. Etuchaand appeared to rouse at the last moment, its arms flailed as it coursed through the air. Yet it could not stop the momentum. The vortex acted like a vacuum. Where Cloudjumper's wind ended, it took over. It pulled at vile being. It pulled, and then began to eat the odd gray mass. Although it took only seconds, it seemed to stretch into minutes. Bit by bit the amorphous anthropomorphic body-shaped thing disappeared. Then it just vanished as the vortex did its real job.

“It's gone,” Jack said in a pant as relief coursed through. “It's... totally gone. It's back where it belongs and The Man in the Moon can take of it.”

He turned to his friends and fellow warriors, and the array of expressions on their faces confused him. Some looked relieved, but three stared at the spot where they clumped themselves together to protect the Hallan spirit. The scene puzzled Jack.

“Oh, gods,” Valka wheezed, one of those who gazed at the stone floor.

“Isemaler!” Hiccup called out the name.

He dropped down on his knees as the Guardian flew toward the sound of anguish. He saw it before he arrived. The still form of a young man with sandy-brown hair, lank of limb, and a face too pale with closed eyes aimed toward the dark sky. No one needed to say what they could all clearly see. The other Vikings stood as if in shock. IceSpike crawled toward the unmoving figure and gently butted her nose against a shoulder. The body rocked, but then it came to a halt.

“Odin, no!” Jack said and sailed to land next to Hiccup.

The Guardian gently took hold of Isemaler's head. He bent his down as anguish began to fill his body. He touched his forehead to the one in his hands, and whispered: “Isemaler, I failed you... my brother”

Even though the vortex continued to make the harsh sound, all else seemed stilled. Jack began to weep as he held the lifeless head of the Hallan Spirit of Winter Joy. It did not seem fair or right that Isemaler perished while the creature that stole his life continued to live in another universe. At the edges of his pain, anger began to swell. Isemaler, impulsive and sometimes rash in his actions and thinking, did not deserve that fate. He faced down the Manglers with humor and levity to save the lives of the children of his village. The young man earned his right to wear the mantle of Isemaler. It infuriated Jack that Etuchaand managed to sap the joy out of their victory. While he wrestled with his rising fury, Jack heard others crying as well. He lifted his head and looked around. The dragon riders to a person shared in his misery.

“Why?” Astrid whispered. “Why couldn't we stop it?”

“He was so beautiful and pure,” Tuffnut sniffed as he spoke.

“Not again,” Hiccup croaked the words as he rocked on his haunches and stared at the lifeless body of Isemaler, né Grimtooth Skovaks.

The Viking's mind led him down dark paths remembering those he lost over the years. From his father's death to the day he thought Jack died forever to those dragons and riders who sacrificed everything to protect Berk, Hiccup felt himself riding on a sea of personal pain. Time and again Halla proved capable of snuffing out the light of the best and brightest among them. It staggered him to think someone as powerful as Isemaler could fall in such a simple manner. Then Hiccup's mind turned toward the one who took the life of the Spirit of Winter Joy. His thoughts grew darker still as a want for vengeance began to form. His hands closed into fists while he situated the blame squarely on the thing called Etuchaand.

“Jack,” he growled the name. “What... will happen to Etuchaand... on Earth?”

Anger and fury began to transform into rage in Jack as the question sank into his brain. A vague notion as to what The Man in the Moon planned got discussed, but the Guardian could not say for certain. Jack wanted to know, and he wanted to know it would be appropriate for the crimes the entity committed. He sat up and carefully laid Isemaler's head down on the stone floor of The Finger of the Gods. Terrible emotions ripped through him. He held out his hand and his staff flew into it. Immediately power began to flow into his body. The temperature around him began to precipitously drop. He stepped around the empty shell of a person, the spirit, lying on the ground.

“Etuchaand will pay,” Jack said, and his voice cracked like a sheet of ice. “I'll return at sunrise.”

Before anyone could say anything or stop him, Jack rose into the air and flew like an icy comet straight at and into the vortex. Seconds later it disappeared with a loud hiss and a gravelly pop. The light surrounding the Guardian box dimmed until only the gronckle iron remained gleaming in the diffuse moonlight.

“Hiccup, he's not going to...?” Valka asked, but did not say the final word.

“I don't know, Mom. Maybe. Never saw him look so angry before,” he responded to his mother in morose tones.

“Why did that Etuchaand thing kill Isemaler? I don't get it? It doesn't make any sense,” Ruffnut mumbled, and she sounded like she talked to herself.

Many moments passed in an oppressive silence until Fishlegs said: “Some things are just... evil. They just like to cause hurt and pain... hate.”

The answer, while short, struck Hiccup as the truth. He knew very little about the creature Etuchaand. Whatever motivated the being remained a mystery. As he glanced around, the Viking realized that while he knew his friends and loved ones in great detail he did not always understand their thinking. In the same turn, they probably did not understand his. As he followed his thoughts, he came to see Jack frequently shared his thoughts. It dawned on Hiccup he truly did understand much of what motivated the Earthling, more so than any person left standing on the stone platform.

“Hiccup, how did this guy become Isemaler?” Snotlout asked in a husky voice.

“It's, ah... not a pretty story,” he rejoined.

“I want to know. I to know that what he did, how he lived, really meant something other than just to get killed by that Etuchaand,” Astrid all but command him.

Hiccup sighed. He looked around at the faces. He saw eyes flick back and forth between him and the lifeless body. Somehow, it seemed fitting to share the story.

“Before he became Isemaler, he was Grimtooth Skovaks,” he began.

“Those tree farmers over on the western isles?” Groanhilde inquired.

“Yeah, them. Ten years ago the Manglers attacked their islands. It sounded like they were pretty intent on wiping out the Skovaks clan. I don't know why... like Etuchaand, I don't know why the Manglers do anything they do,” Hiccup told them.

“Same reasons,” Fishlegs murmured.

“Yeah, probably.”

Heads nodded in agreement.

“Grimtooth took it on himself to round up the children and keep them safe. He hid them as best as he could, but... the Manglers found them. He knew they would slaughter the children, so he did whatever he could to distract them, stop them. Isemaler said he danced and joked and laughed at the Manglers ‘til they got really angry with him. Then he ran and they chased him. They caught him at some point, tortured him, just about beat him to death, and then threw him off a cliff into the ocean.”

Gasps and looks of horror met that part of the tale. Hiccup looked down at the pale, still face of Grimtooth. He remembered what the young man told him of that day. It caused a deep ache in the Viking's chest.

“He said to me one time that even knowing what would happen to him, what the Manglers would do, he'd still go through with it. He saved those children. Grimtooth acted like a fool, and... he saved some part of village and knew he was going to die for it,” Hiccup said with a trembling voice. “All those times I got mad at him ‘cause he came to Jack for answers... I wasn't nice to him.”

He lowered his head while tears fell from his eyes. Hiccup felt guilt and shame over his past behavior. Isemaler carried a burden so much heavier than the Viking could fathom, and yet he never truly gave the spirit full credit for it. Hiccup only blamed Isemaler for interfering with his and Jack's life. Yet once again Grimtooth Skovaks willingly risked himself, paid the ultimate price, to protect others. Hiccup felt petty and small next to the man.

“Don't do this to yourself, son,” Valka quietly told him. “Do you know how many times I silently called you a fool for rushing off on Toothless to defend Berk... and you're not exactly fond of everyone who lives there. You, and Jack and Isemaler...”

The woman paused and glanced at the rest before saying: “All of you here, you put you lives in jeopardy time after time after time... and some of you got crushed by what came of it all.”

Valka looked first to Snotlout, then Tuffnut, and finally to Astrid. Each bore different scars of their time spent as dragon riders. Hiccup saw the look in his mother's eyes, and he wondered about her. She also sacrificed much for dragons, and in doing so caused others to sacrifice with her. He looked at his friends and saw the truth in what his mother stated. Every one of them, Fishlegs and Groanhilde included, paid a price for defending their island and the people on it.

“Noro the Skydancer made Grimtooth into Isemaler... gave him the staff after lifting him out of the sea,” Hiccup told the tale, but not for the others. He needed to hear himself say it. “He loved being Isemaler. He loved it. He loved seeing the children and making them laugh on a cold day. He taught them how to smile when the wind blew in their faces. He was... perfect for our world... and our world took his life for it.”

“No,” Tuffnut harshly said and nudged aside his sister. “No, it didn't, Hiccup. You think the world is alive and that it feels and has thoughts, but... that's childish. I don't limp like this because a piece of ground did it: that wound in my side happened ‘cause I made a choice just as much the ones who gave it to me did. So don't tell me it was the world. Isemaler knew what he got himself into. You cheapen his death by saying it got done to him.”

“Hookfang,” Snotlout said and paused for a moment. “Hookfang got killed trying to protect kids and other dragons. I didn't make him do it. No one did. Maybe training, I don't know, but like Tuffnut said, it wasn't a rock or stone that decided to kill him... Hookfang died doing what he thought he had to do... his own choice. The people who killed him chose to do that, too.”

The statements from Snotlout and Tuffnut robbed Hiccup of words for a moment. Of any standing on The Finger, those two suffered wounds in body and mind beyond the rest. He could feel them taking him to task, and Hiccup felt shame again.

“I know why you dislike the world so much,” Fishlegs joined in. “All your life you've tried to find a way to fit in, and all you're life you didn't. I guess from your perspective it seems like the world doesn't want you. We rejected you when you were young ‘cause you were so scrawny and didn't look like a Viking...”

“And you hid part of yourself, Hiccup: a very, very important part that affected not just you, but me, too,” Astrid said when Fishlegs took a breath. “And I guess everything that happened after must've felt like it was done to you... out of your control. I think I understand why you left that day.”

“And then when Jack died...” Fishlegs tried to reassert himself.

All save Valka gasped at the statement.

“Just a small dragon, that spokelsedrake, like it couldn't hurt anything,” the round, blonde-haired man continued. “You flew off to face a god to find out how to try and save him. I watched you cut into Jack trying to save his life. I still have nightmares about it. I wanted to think the spokelsedrake was evil, but... dammit, Hiccup, it was just doing what that dragon species does to survive. It wasn't personal, and maybe... I think that what bothers you most about Etuchaand: we don't know why it did what it did.”

Hiccup looked at those who tried to counsel him. He considered what each said, and a lot of it sounded suspiciously like something he would tell them in a dark moment. The Viking looked back at the lifeless Grimtooth. Nothing of his tenure as Isemaler remained, except of the clothing that tried to look like Jack's Guardian clothing. The staff lay off to one side, unguarded and untended. He wondered what the spirit would say to him about the events.

“Every time we headed out to stop some madman or rogue dragon, I worried about you guys. It scared me to think maybe one or all of you wouldn't make it back. I remember when the dragon hunting boats would head out... and not all of them returned. How many times did I say being a Viking was an occupational hazard?” Hiccup said, but mostly to his memories.

“Wasn't that true for Isemaler? Or Jack? Or you... or any of us standing here right now? When you think about it, when are we ever really safe?” Groanhilde asked the group in a quiet, thoughtful tone.

Groanhilde managed to dig into straight to the heart of the question. The sense of sorrow Hiccup felt over the death of Isemaler, a second time for Grimtooth Skovaks, arrived because the spirit set out to protect children. He recalled the first time Jack saw The Breathless One and the events leading to the meeting. Years after the fact, Jack told him what Lord of Winter said in response. Since that time, Hiccup noticed Jack never again spoke about keeping children safe from death, but rather safe from unwarranted harm and injury. The Viking stared down at the body.

“We can't stop what... I guess what ultimately waits for all of us... even the immortals,” Hiccup said in a strangely flat voice. “Fair or unfair isn't part of the equation, is it?”

“No,” Valka said when no one else spoke. “Any meaning any of this has, Isemaler's life included, comes from us. I keep thinking about what Jack said about his life before becoming a Guardian. He worked so hard to be seen by anyone, but eventually it's what he did for the children, not himself, that got him noticed. It's what made him a Guardian. Maybe... maybe that's the lesson we need to learn from this.”

Several heads nodded in agreement. His mother's words began to sink into his head. More than once he wondered about meaning and how it came about. He thought of the picture of his father in the Great Hall, along with all the other chiefs and people of note. Their lives took on meaning by the remembrances of others. Then Hiccup thought of the multitude of nameless others who came before any of them. The countless Berkians who lived and died no one could remember. Did their lives, he wondered, lose meaning because no one remembered them. The thoughts seemed to dovetail with what his mother stated.

“Nick said me to the Guardians do what is right because it's right, and not because they get rewarded or thanked by anyone,” he spoke as much to himself as to those around him.

“Isn't that true on... any planet?” Ruffnut inquired.

“Or any dimension... as Jack calls it?” Fishlegs added.

“But how to do we know what is right or what is wrong?” Groanhilde said aloud, and it appeared she only meant to think it.

Thus began a long discussion between the Vikings. As they talked, Viking instinct kicked in. They arranged Isemaler's body on a cloak, one Valka generously donated, and did their best to wrap him in it. Each of them provided a small token from their personal wares so that the Hallan may enjoy it in the Hall of Warriors. The group debated what made one action right and another wrong. As the night wore on and the torches began to gutter, they came to an incomplete conclusion: any act – be it in deed, thought, or word – that simultaneously brought the most good and least harm could be called right. Around the edges of the central idea they sprinkled nuances.

When the western horizon began to grow brighter behind the clouds, the Vikings fell silent. As one they sat along the edge of the platform on The Finger of the Gods and watched dawn break across their part of the world. The dragons long since curled against one another and fell into a fitful sleep. Hiccup, himself, felt tired to the bone but not sleepy. His brain felt overstuffed from the events of the past day. They somehow succeeded in their main object, but the cost seemed too high. He pondered what the children of Halla would do since Isemaler would not be around to brighten the dark days of winter. It made him feel sad anew, but the sorrow reached out in many directions. Hiccup heard his family and friends sigh during the own private contemplation. In an unusual feat for a group of Vikings, the silence surrounding them did not feel awkward or guarded. They shared a rather unique moment.

A new day spread out over the archipelago and with it came a plethora of new questions. No one noticed Twinetender, the staff of Isemaler, vanished during the night. The Finger of the Gods felt oddly empty.


	16. Chapter 16

In the days that followed defeat of Etuchaand and the death of Isemaler, Jack's mind continually returned to the funeral service the Vikings performed on The Finger of the Gods. They each gave testament to what they knew about Isemaler. Even though only three of the Hallans actually knew the spirit, the others noted his bravery, courage, self-sacrifice, and tenacity in the face of a powerful foe. They also gave Jack a chance to place a token with the body. How it got into his pocket he could not say, but he withdrew from it a small nesting doll painted to look like the Spirit of Fun. Jack wrapped Isemaler's hand around it. As one they bid farewell to the Isemaler, also known as Grimtooth Skovaks. Cloudjumper then carried the body into the air. They knew far out at sea the dragon would let it slip under the waves. No one said a word about the tears that crept down their faces.

Three nights after the battle, the Defenders gathered at Haddock House, on invitation from Jack, to dine together and discuss their adventure. It proved a quiet affair as they recounted in detail the events of the battle. To a person they acknowledged the crucial role Isemaler played in keeping Etuchaand occupied. The group gave credit and high praise to their dragons for actually pushing the vile entity through the vortex. They also noted Jack's timely arrival, although none could understand how he managed to exist in two places at the same time. The word quantum got thrown around a few times. By the end of somewhat somber evening, Jack felt a little better. The others, and especially Hiccup, also appeared to receive some comfort from the gathering. In Jack spent eight nights dreaming of the small ceremony held on the Finger of the Gods. He thought about it during each day. He vowed Grimtooth would not be forgotten, even if the memories existed on a different world.

Nine evenings after saying good-bye to Isemaler, Hiccup woke with a start in the deep of the night. He dreamed of Jack and Noro the Skydancer. He also thought he saw Aita, and the memory made him shiver. However, Hiccup could not shake the dream and fall back to sleep. Instead he got dressed and quietly left the dragon caves on the back of Toothless. He directed the night fury to fly to the Haddock house. Without being asked, Toothless went to the dragon portal on the roof. Once the dragon entered, he slipped through it as well. IceSpike watched them with interest. Then she focused her gaze on Jack. The man lay in bed in a deep slumber.

Hiccup climbed down the dragon pedestal and approached the bed. His green eyes focused on the Earthling. Not only did he seem asleep, but he barely breathed. It alarmed Hiccup. He crawled onto the bed to the side of the man. He debated what to do for a few moments.

“Jack?” Hiccup called out the name while gently shaking the sleeping figure. “Jack?”

Jack did not wake. He continued to breath deeply and slowly without pause. His chest rose and fell under the light sheet covering his body. Moreover, the eyes behind his closed lids did not dart about to indicate dreaming. Hiccup, while disturbed by the depth of the slumber, stilled his jangling nerves. The dream that woke the Viking continued to flicker in his mind. It started to make him suspicious. He remained very well aware gods and immortal beings acted as they saw fit and without any explanation. Instead, Hiccup curled up on the end of the bed. Toothless set about scorching his old nest in preparation to return to sleep. IceSpike, Hiccup noted, continued to stare at her rider. He closed his eyes and began to count each breath Jack took.

“Hey, Hiccup?” A voice quietly roused him as something poked as his shoulder. “Hey!”

“What? I'm awake,” Hiccup replied in a testy manner as he sat up, smacked his lips, and blinked his eyes against the light flooding into the room.

“Why are you sleeping like a cat on the bed?” Jack asked him as brown eyes searched the face of the Viking.

“Had a really, really weird dream.”

“So you came here?”

“It was about Noro and... The Breathless One,” Hiccup told him. “It felt real, and kept me up. So I came here.”

Jack looked surprised. The rectangular face with the pointed chin did not move. Hiccup noted the sheet gathered in the lap of the man, and the fact Jack continued to sleep naked in the bed. Of course, the hot, humid summer gave him ample reason. The Viking, himself, only wore thin undergarments in his room at the dragon cave. However, seeing the man in a state of undress only prompted urges that tormented him for weeks on end. He tried not to stare. Instead, he focused on the brown eyes that stopped blinking.

“Jack, I know that face. What happened?” He inquired and tried to make it a request and not a demand.

“It, ah... just those two?” Jack counter-queried.

“Yeah, it was like I was looking at them and they were looking at me. I couldn't understand what they said. I saw Noro's lips moving... wait, Jack! Please tell me this didn't actually happen!”

“I... ah, maybe.”

The two men gazed at one another. Jack shuddered a bit. He could not imagine why they gave Hiccup a front-row seat to the meeting, but made him deaf to their voices. Of course if Aita did speak and Hiccup heard the voice, it would not be good for him. He swallowed.

“By Thor, that wasn't a dream,” Hiccup concluded when Jack did not say anything further.

Jack nodded.

“What did they want?” The Viking did demand this time.

“Noro created another Isemaler. Someone from the bottom of the world where it's cold and snowy all year long,” Jack said and decided not to withhold the truth.

Hiccup frowned, but then eased his expression. He stared at Jack and tried to read the pleasant face. He failed and said: “So you've got another one to train. Hope he's easier to deal with than Grimtooth was.”

“Ah, she, not he, and, um... well, I won't have anything to do with her.”

The Viking narrowed his eyes in question.

“Honestly, I won't,” Jack protested at the visage. “Noro said she realized part of what made me what I am came from learning it on my own. She seemed to think Father Moon had it right, and it's why he never spoke to me after he lifted me from the pond, but it told her why I am what I am now.”

“Isn't that kind of cruel? It's not like you had a lot of fun during that time,” Hiccup reminded the man.

“No, I didn't, but I sure did learn how to use my powers, Hiccup.”

The Hallan man hummed deep in his throat.

“And, for your information, it's because Noro listened to you,” Jack told in response. “She agreed it interfered too much with my life here.”

That surprised Hiccup almost beyond measure.

“She also told one more thing: The Man in the Moon told her Etuchaand is all but dead. My universe can't sustain it anymore just like this one couldn't. It tried to change itself to be able to use the energies here and didn't do it right. Etuchaand is starving to death. It'll be completely gone in two or three million years,” Jack informed him in a thoughtful manner.

“Why do you sound like you almost regret that?” The Viking asked and adjusted himself so he sat cross-legged on the bed.

“Even if Etuchaand is unconscious, it's not a pleasant way to die: starving to death. I'm going to try and convince Father Moon to just end Etuchaand's life, but... he probably won't. I think it'd be like killing part of himself if he did,” Jack quietly explained.

“Well, starving him seems more cruel, then.”

“As long as it faces the sun, Etuchaand isn't really conscious, so the moon is staying tidally locked. There's something about all light and radiation that acts like a drug. Noro says it's like being trapped in a deep sleep.”

Hiccup nodded. He silently admitted he did not know what should be done with the being. Hence, it seemed wiser to let those with the power to enforce a decision make one.

“I got some messages from Earth, too,” Jack told him. “Apparently Father Moon actually talked to the other Guardians after I left, and they had a couple of things to say they never got around to telling me. We pretty much spent the rest of the month dealing with Etuchaand. Noro passed on the messages.”

For the next fifteen minutes Hiccup listened to Jack recite messages from the Guardians and a few of the yeti. They each expressed a pride in how the Hallans conducted themselves in the fight with entity from Earth. Moreover, Nicholas and Toothania stated it spoke very well of people who could suppress their fears in face of frightening unknowns and do what needed to be done. Hiccup accepted the multiple praises and told Jack he needed to tell the others. Finally, the yeti wanted to know if Hiccup and Fishlegs would write a report on the plans the yeti drafted for the vortex trap, and especially how it work in the field. Secondly, they wanted an update on Toothless' tail piece. Hiccup agreed they would send a detailed accounting.

“Thanks,” Jack said, “and I won't need it need ‘til I go back.”

Hiccup nodded and narrowed his eyes before asking: “Why do you sound so sad?”

Jack shrugged.

“Don't keep it in, Jack. It makes you act crazy after a while.”

“I just can't stop feeling like Grimtooth got used. He was good a being Isemaler....”

“Yeah, I kind of feel the same way,” Hiccup said when Jack paused. “I keep thinking those so-called gods...”

“They're not gods, Hiccup,” Jack asserted again for the umpteenth thousandth time.

“They really proved it with this one. Noro wouldn't lift a finger to help, your Man in the Moon had to send you, all the other go... invisible beings who live here didn't do anything, either, and they were just as much at risk as us. They're the ones who let Isemaler get killed,” the Viking rumbled with barely concealed anger.

“You're right.”

Hiccup blinked in astonishment at the concession.

“No, seriously, you are, Hiccup,” Jack replied to the expression. “She didn't come right out and say it, but Noro hinted she regretted how the situation worked out.”

Hiccup shifted around so that he no longer sat directly on his legs as he considered what Jack stated. The Viking wanted to be angry at the higher powers for their failures, yet hearing at least one of them expressed regrets took some of the fuel out of his fire. He stared at Jack who looked down at his hands.

“Jack?”

“Noro said she would talk to the new Isemaler every once in a while,” the Earthling informed him. “She'll also have Thursar and Blikse'fey and Du buh Lach Nahr to talk to. It's not like they're Guardians, but she won't be alone. I hope they help her more than they helped Grimtooth.”

“Maybe they didn't care ‘cause they thought you'd take care of Grimtooth,” Hiccup ventured.

“Probably.”

A strange silence settled over the two men. The news Jack would be free of responsibility for the new Isemaler came as relief to one of them. The man earned the right, in the Viking's estimation, to a normal life. Hiccup further hoped the powers of Halla would leave Jack alone for the rest of his life. Try as he might, he could not stop feeling bitter about how the Earthling also got used as a device by the gods.

“You look angry,” Jack said in a quiet voice.

“I can't stop thinking about how you got used, too. It wasn't just Grimtooth. If they just made you mortal and left you alone...”

Hiccup did not need to end the statement. Jack could recite the list of complaints, and justifiable ones for the for most part, the Viking could name. The loss of Grimtooth made the last ten years feel a bit wasted to Jack, although ushering Etuchaand back to where it belonged could never be marginalized. While he learned a lot about himself and living in general, he wondered if Noro and Elada learned any lessons as well. During their discussion, the keeper of Halla seemed oddly ignorant about what life as a real mortal encapsulated. Jack realized he, himself, only just began to understand. He lifted his eyes and gazed at the Hallan dragon rider. A powerful mix of emotions swept through him.

“Can I ask you something?” He said after a few moments.

“Sure,” the Viking answered.

“Do you ever think what life would be like if you never found Toothless?”

Hiccup eyed him for a second and said: “I know exactly how it would've turned out. We'd still be fighting the dragons. Probably half the people I know would be dead. We'd just keep doing the same thing over and over... just living to kill dragons on another day. Something had to make us change, Jack... and sometimes it feels like I was meant to shoot Toothless out of the sky that night.”

“So you believe in fate?”

“Don't be stupid: you know I don't. But... sometimes it just seems so... I don't know.”

“Convenient?”

“That word works,” Hiccup said with a shrug. “Why do you ask?”

“Things are different now,” Jack said through a sigh, “and I can't quite see where it's all leading.”

“Welcome to mortality, Jack,” the Viking replied with a bit more sarcasm than he intended.

Jack, however, grinned.

“You do realize that's how I feel most the time? I've given up thinking any of this is going to ever make any sense. I'm just trying to get to the next day without acting like the rest of them,” Hiccup said and bobbed his head once in the direction of the village square.

“Don't forget some of those people followed you across the sea to face would could've been their death, and they didn't shy away from it,” the Guardian in disguise reminded him.

“Oh, trust me: I haven't. I still can't figure out why...”

“'Cause they trust you, Hiccup,” Jack quickly interjected. “It didn't matter what happened over the last ten years. They knew if you said it was serious and you needed help, then it was serious and you needed help. They may not say it, but they know whatever happens to you might happen to them. But that wasn't the real reason.”

“Then what?”

“Ever think maybe, just maybe, they really are your friends and they still care about you?”

Hiccup felt his throat constrict as emotions rose up. He nodded. After a few seconds, he said: “It felt so good to be flying with them again. To see Snotlout just riding on a dragon back...”

Then his voice failed him.

“He's a different man now.”

The Viking nodded.

“We all are. Nothing stays the same. It can't. It shouldn't,” Jack told him. “Sometimes I sit and listen to everything Nick, Bunny, and Toothania remember about how things used to be long before I was even born. Then Leiyís'axt will tell me about how the world looks physically different... how it even feels different. I can't imagine what it's like living as long as he... she has.”

“You will,” Hiccup muttered.

“Does that scare you?”

“I don't know what to think about it to be honest. Sometimes I look at you... do you realize you look older here? When you came through that vortex thing... it was like looking into the past,” Hiccup said as his mind tossed up the image of Jack in his Guardian form. “You looked so young.”

Jack blinked in surprise. He never fully considered the fact he would physically age on Halla. After three centuries wearing the same skin trapped in perpetual youth, the notion hit him unexpectedly hard. It dawned on Jack he rarely saw his reflection on Halla.

“Wait a second... you never...” Hiccup started to say.

“I never thought about it,” Jack replied before the Viking could finish. “It's not like there's a lot of mirrors on Berk.”

“It's that dragon thing.”

Jack nodded. He saw more than one dragon catch it's own reflection and suddenly become territorial. Each year several house would catch fire when a dragon believed it's home got invaded by another, identical dragon. Hence, mirrors, either glass or polished metal, tended to be scarce. At the very least, mirrors got covered when not in use. As a result, Jack hardly ever saw himself. Thus, his mental self-image tended to lag far behind the times.

“There's a different issue we need to discuss,” Jack said in the silence space that opened.

“Which one?” Hiccup asked and picked at the sheet on the bed.

“Us. What about us?”

The Viking lifted his head and stared into the warm brown eyes of the Earthling. They looked at each other. Jack tried to see if he could predict an answer, but he only found a guarded gaze. Hiccup attempted to estimate what Jack wanted to hear, but the Guardian proved opaque.

“I admit with Isemaler being gone it changes things quite a bit, but... you still have your duty to Earth,” the Viking said. “I know it's just one night every four-week. I know it's so much a part of who you are, who I know, but I hate it that I can't face the danger with you. It leaves me powerless, Jack, and I don't like that feeling. Plus, if you don't go, it means you have to give up something...”

“I know: an inseparable part of me,” Jack finished in a hard voice.

“I can't take that from you, Jack. Not after what I saw on the Finger. You were... amazing. The way Isemaler looked as he flew with you... never saw him happier. I got a reminder of who you are deep down inside, and I don't want to keep you from it.”

Jack heard words, and they burned in his ears.

“Can I ask you something now?” Hiccup said while watching the face of the Guardian.

The brown-haired man nodded.

“Do you know what you really want? Do you want to be here with me or do you want to be a Guardian on Earth?”

Jack felt insulted as he listened. His face scrunched into a frown. However, as the seconds flew by and he thought about the question, his visage relaxed. Hiccup, Jack slowly realized, asked a very important question. Neither he nor anyone doubted he loved the Viking with all his heart, but no one seemed to know what existed in his heart of hearts. He stared at Hiccup. Hiccup evenly returned the gaze. The Guardian in human guise perplexed him at times. However, when Hiccup saw Jack emerge from the vortex and the fierce look on the pale face, he believed he saw the truth about Jack Frost. It presented an image Hiccup understood he would never defeat and neither did he wish to do battle with it. He saw Jack in his real form, and the flood of memories it sponsored in him made him think hard and long over issue they actually faced.

“Hiccupp... I... what I want...” Jack began to stammer.

“I know. It doesn't seem fair you'd have to make a choice, but you do. Life is all about choices, even for an immortal like you,” Hiccup said and kept his voice steady. “I've thought about this a lot, Jack, and it always comes down to this. I know what I want. I know what I want you to say, but I don't want you to say or do anything just because you think it'd make me happy. You'd be miserable... and then we'd be miserable... and I'd be miserable in the end. That's not what I want at all.”

The man dressed only in a bed sheet nodded his head. He did not hear anger or resentment in Hiccup's tone, but rather a resignation to the facts as he understood them. Moreover, Hiccup freely admitted to Jack what he wanted to hear, albeit in a roundabout fashion. Jack forced himself to listen and shoved his myriad of emotions to the side. Hiccup deserved to be heard, especially since he so willingly offered the safety of his family and friends to fight a menace from another universe. It gave him reason to pause and seriously consider the statements.

“Just... think about it, Jack, and let me know when you figure it out,” Hiccup told him without any rancor. “I can't be happy if you're not happy, and it's true the other way around.”

With that, Hiccup leaned forward and kissed Jack on the forehead. He held it for several moments. He did not mean it to inspire passion, but rather to impart a sense of comradery and trust. When he leaned back, he saw Jack's eyes glisten. Since he could not rely on his voice at the moment, Hiccup stood, walked across the bed, and to the dragon pedestal. His hand reached out to his best winged friend. He stroked the ebony hide.

“Come on, bud,” he quietly intoned with a shaky voice.

Toothless roused. Then with a skill born of years of practice the Viking and night fury crawled up to the dragon hatch, and then out of it. The hatch closed with solid click. Footsteps echoed on the roof followed by silence from above.

In the room an Earthling and a woolly howl stared at one another. Jack felt the weight of Hiccup's questions press down on him, and he gave up resisting the urge to begin thinking about all the underlying assumptions. Tears slid down his cheeks, but his mind bent to the task at hand in the way only a Guardian could push past personal considerations to grapple with the important duties. He sat back, wrapped the sheet around his naked form, and glanced at the dragon hatch. It seemed symbolic at the moment.

Life on Berk continued without interruption. Only eight Berkians and seven dragons knew about the peril their world faced, and each kept their knowledge secret. The villagers started to notice how people who all but avoided one another for almost ten years began to meet periodically. Astrid appeared in the smithy once or twice a week and shared pleasant chats with both Hiccup and Jack. The twins ventured from Thorston Manor and interacted more with their family and friends, although that tended to invited unintended chaos when the twins natural proclivities took center stage. Snotlout continued to expand on his woodworking skills, and his reputation as master carver grew. No one questioned it when they saw the man traipsing about the village with a full-grown male boar and a one-winged night terror by his side. It only seemed odd when nothing out of the ordinary happened on the island.

What did come as shock to the village occurred during the third week after the fight with Etuchaand and the death of Isemaler. In the sky a configuration of dragons not seen in ten years took shape. A night fury, a gronckle, a deadly nadder, a zippleback, and a woolly howl met high above the village and soared toward the north end of the island. On the back of the night fury, a dragonless rider sat in the second seat but did not appear at all uncomfortable. Halfway to their destination, a stormcutter joined the quintet of dragons. They flew to a location rarely visited by any of the Berkians due to memories of the whispering death invasion years before.

The group landed in a small clearing next to a cave. At the south end of the open space a tall stump of a tree stood covered in an enormous cloth assembled from a multitude of scraps. After dismounting and sending the dragons off to enjoy a pool of water nearby, they followed the burly man with silver-black hair. He stood in front of the covered tree.

“What you got going on here, Snotlout?” Groanhilde directly enjoined him, and her husband rolled his eyes.

“I am... okay, I couldn't help myself,” Snotlout said and gazed at his friends. “I couldn't stop thinking about what we faced... what it all really means, and I had do something before it drove me to mead again.”

A subtle tense hush whipped through the assembled dragon riders.

“Trust me: I'll do just about anything before going back to that,” the man told them in a confident manner, “but everything we encountered, that... being Etuchaand... finding out about who Jack really is and meeting Isemaler and watching... watching him die, it just filled my head up too much.”

“Even Loki can't figure all of that out,” Tuffnut rumbled.

His sister nodded, but the others threw a small glare at the twins.

“Right,” Snotlout drawled the word. “So, I made this to keep my hands busy and give me time to sort it out.”

For two minutes they got to witness Snotlout wrestling with a gigantic sheet that snagged on whatever got hid underneath. He refused to let anyone help. Finally, he just tugged on it until the fabric ripped, shredded, and fell away. A different hush fell over the assembled as they stared at his handiwork.

“That's... beautiful,” Astrid whispered.

“Great Odin,” Fishlegs mumbled as his small eyes grew wide.

“My word,” Valka murmured while staring at the carving and tears edged out of her eyes.

“Snotlout,” Jack uttered the name with near reverence.

“How'd you get him to pose for the statue? I thought he was dead,” Ruffnut asked and sounded confused.

“I did it from memory,” Snotlout somberly told her, “and he is dead.”

Above them a ten-foot tall carving of Isemaler proudly stood looking into the sky, a rakish grin on his face, as he gasped the crook of wood in his right hand. Snotlout did not miss a single detail. One by one the dragon riders sniffled as they gazed on the monument and the solemnity of the moment stole over them. It seemed fitting that the one among them who remained lost the longest should step forward and create the perfect tribute to the departed immortal.

“It's amazing, Snotlout,” Hiccup complimented the man in a voice thick with emotion.

“Why? I mean, I think I know why, but... why?” Jack inquired.

Snotlout frowned a bit while everyone stared at him. The man turned and gazed at his own work, a piece of art of grand proportions and a worthy subject. When he turned, he looked puzzled and said: “I only met him that day. I never thought he was real... but I know what the children think of him. What he did for us, for Berk... for our world, I couldn't say good-bye to Isemaler without... without somehow proving he was here. I know it's not really proof, but it makes my memories of him real.”

“Big memories,” Tuffnut remarked.

“On my world there are statues of Nick... to Bunny and Toothania, and even Sandy,” Jack said as he gazed in wonder at the image carved in wood. “But this... I swear it beats them all.”

“There's none of you?” Hiccup asked and looked irritated.

“Jamie got a friend of his to make one somewhere in Texas, and I know there's a couple in England and Denmark, but none of them really look like me,” Jack said and tried to dismiss the question. “I want Snotlout to come to my world and make something like this!”

Snotlout blushed a bit.

“Does anyone know what those two are talking about?” Astrid queried in what sounded like an aggrieved manner, but she smirked.

“Barely,” Hiccup replied and met her snicker with one of his own.

“This makes me feel so... so much better. I didn't know we needed a statue to him,” Groanhilde said since she never took her eyes off the sculpture. She adjusted her leather bustier in an absentminded manner.

“When I got done with it, I started sleeping better,” Snotlout stated.

“How long did it take you to make this?” Valka asked.

“'Bout four days total if you add it all up. Once I'd get going, it just sorted of carved itself. Sometimes when I'd I get stuck, I'd remember that laugh he made when him and Jack were flying around getting that thing to chase them,” he said as a strange expression crossed his features.

“It's exactly how I remember him,” Hiccup said as a wave of regret and sadness washed through him. “Exactly.”

“Can you do me a favor, Snotlout?” Jack asked as he, too, felt a conflict of raw emotions sweep inside his chest.

The artist looked in his direction.

“Can you make a plaque or something, maybe carve it into the base?” Jack began as he organized his thoughts. “Write that this is Isemaler, the Spirit of Winter Joy, Guardian of Halla, and Protector of Children.”

Snotlout nodded. Hiccup turned his head and stared at Jack. Perhaps only Fishlegs and Valka could understand the honor Jack requested for their fallen comrade. He studied the man he loved despite the distance between them, and the thoughts he saw rippling across Jack's face made him wonder. He granted all the titles to the former Grimtooth Skovaks even though the Earthling originated the role in the Hallan pantheon of immortals.

“That's generous of you, Jack,” Valka said and expressed the thoughts of her son.

“No, it's not. He earned it,” Jack demurred.

“He did,” Hiccup quietly added.

The others watched the display. Fishlegs slowly began to bob his head, and his wife looked at him with a questioning look. Eight people standing in a semi-circle around the statue of Isemaler carved in naturally aged oak looked back and forth from image in wood to the Earthling. Jack met their gazes. It dawned on him only Hiccup, Fishlegs, and Valka ever truly knew him as Jack Frost and Isemaler. The rest, including everyone else in the village, simply knew him as Jack, the foundling in the sea from a far off land. A furious debate began to rage inside of him. The world of Halla did deserve it's own Guardians, and not an interloper from another world. It did not matter in the least that Jack got it started, he no longer owned a place in the Hallan sky that did not involve a dragon.

“Hiccup, is this my world, too?” He asked the Viking.

“You've made it yours,” Hiccup answered the Guardian in disguise. “And you didn't need your staff to do it. Just your mind and your hands.”

“I don't understand what they're talking about,” Tuffnut loudly whispered to his sister.

“Ah, dear brother, did you forget Jack hails from some... where else?” Ruffnut answered.

“So, he's a Hairy Hooligan now. Isn't he?”

“Yes, he is,” Hiccup firmly stated. “No matter what else he is, Jack is one of us.”

Jack nodded, and the questions Hiccup asked more than a week before swirled through his head.

To the delight and surprise of all, Snotlout went to the cave and retrieved a couple of bottles of good wine and light meal for them the share. He used the sheets he tore from the statue as ground cover. He called it a tribute to Isemaler for saving their lives and to the dragons who did as much. No one disagreed. The dragon riders sat around, and those who knew Isemaler best began to share stories about him. They laughed at his exploits, groaned at his mistakes, and recalled a life lived on a grand scale. Tears got shed, but sadness did not rule over the day. The sun arced through the sky and dipped toward the east. The wooden statue of Isemaler glowed in the late afternoon sun, and he seemed to smile out over all the world.

“Jack?” Hiccup quietly said to the man standing on the edge of the pool watching the dragons languidly swim through the water. Their meal ended, but they did not end their gathering. No one, Jack included, wanted to leave.

“Hmm?” The man replied.

“What did you really mean by is this your world, too?”

“I'm not from here, remember?”

Hiccup stood next to the Earthling and watched the dragons as they lazed in the warm afternoon air. He thought about Jack's response, and something about seemed wrong. He puzzled for a moment before he said: “I'm not sure that's true anymore.”

Jack titled his head and looked at the Viking.

“Think about it, Jack. There's a spot... a hole in this world shaped like you, looks like you, and can only be filled by someone who lives like you do. You may not think this world is yours, but it sure seems like it made a claim on you. Come on, it can't even give up the staff you brought here,” Hiccup explained in a defiant fashion.

“And my Earth heritage?” Jack countered.

“Do you think IceSpike cares about that?”

The hidden Guardian shook his head.

“I'm not trying to push you to think one way or the other, but I don't want you to forget any of the facts. The people of Berk trust you... well, a good chunk of them do. Groanhilde adores you even though she knows what you really are, and finding out about you didn't seem to have any impact on how Snotlout feels.”

Jack waggled his head while he thought about those aspects.

“I heard Nick... maybe it was Toothania, say that home is where the heart is,” the Viking continued.

“What if your heart is torn between two places?”

Hiccup shook his head and said: “It doesn't have to be, Jack. I think your forgetting one of the more important pieces here.”

After five seconds, Jack grew irritated at the pause and asked: “And that is?”

“It's something I didn't think of ‘til you told me Noro chose a new Isemaler, and seeing Snotlout's statue reminded me of it,” the green-eyed Viking added.

“And what does that have to do with anything?” The Guardian gruffly prompted.

“What is he carping about?” Ruffnut inquired and strolled toward them. Her brother followed along, bent to one side as he walked.

“Tell me, Ruffnut, ‘cause you seem to know all these strange rules about Berk,” Hiccup said without sounding annoyed. “When Jack dies, where will he be buried?”

“He's a dragon rider and a Defender, so he'll get buried at sea like all warriors.”

“Oh, maybe we should shoot his body from a cannon and tie all sorts so of explosives to his body so he can blow up in the middle the sky and pieces of his flaming body can rain down...” her brother began to suggest.

“What in himmel is wrong with you?” Astrid complained as she, too, walked to the group standing at the edge of the pool.

Hiccup and Jack saw the other's also moved toward them.

“Just trying to find the proper send off for Jack when he kicks it for eternity,” The long-haired, blonde man remarked with a rather trenchant expression.

“He gets a warrior burial, just like the rest of us,” Astrid sternly opined.

“But isn't he more than a warrior?” Groanhilde chimed in. When the other's looked at her, she frowned a bit before continuing. “He flew with Isemaler... without a dragon. He did all that ice stuff... and he used to be Isemaler. That's got to count for something.”

“Perhaps, but I don't think blowing up his body is very dignified,” Fishlegs commented.

“Why not? Who would ever forget an event like that? They'd sing songs just about his funeral!” Tuffnut defended his suggestion.

“Tell me, Tuffnut, is that how you want to be buried?” Valka asked in her quiet but commanding way.

“Who wouldn't?” The man crowed.

“You honestly didn't think he would say something else?” Astrid asked the senior dragon woman.

“Hiccup, I still don't get your point,” Jack said as an argument began to brew between the other dragon riders as to what constituted an appropriate Viking burial.

“Think about it, Jack. Think about what they're... god, that's awful,” Hiccup said and got distracted by Ruffnut's notion they should chop up his remains before shooting it out of a cannon, much to the delight of her brother. “Anyway, you will be buried here when you die. Something of you will remain. It won't go back to Earth. Doesn't that tell you anything?”

Jack narrowed his eyes. He could sense a greater point in Hiccup's words, but it still eluded him.

“Good gods, Jack, only someone from Halla could get buried on Halla. It doesn't matter how you got here, you're here. This is your home whether you like it or not... whether you even accept it or not. If the twins have their way, you'll get spread out all over the place,” Hiccup feigned exasperation as he explained his larger point.

“Please don't leave them in charge of my burial when the time comes,” Jack pleaded as he listened to the others soundly reject the ideas proposed by the Thorstons.

“We won't. In fact, I'll get the council to make a law banning them from any funeral preparations,” the Viking conceded. “But you have to do me one favor. You need to ask your Father Moon about one thing I don't know, and I don't think you do, either.”

“What's that?”

“If you die on Earth, what happens to what's left of you here?”

Jack started open his mouth, and then he closed it. It did not matter that he already lived over three hundred years, he did not know everything. His mouth curled into a grim smile while he nodded his head. Given Ruffnut's suggestion of pureeing Jack's body and putting the slurry into specially made cannon balls that would rupture over the ocean and spread a fine mist of his remains across the sea, his expression could be applied in any direction.


	17. Chapter 17

On the night of the full moon, Jack lay in bed and heard the murmur of Hiccup talking with his mother and Fishlegs. Granted, Hiccup normally stood watch over him while he made the monthly transition, yet he could not quite figure out why Fishlegs and Valka made an appearance. During their repast of a pleasant meal, a mug of light ale, and a rather odd desert Groanhilde provided in lieu of her attendance, they did not address any matters of pressing importance. Jack finally chalked it up to revisiting the days when only they knew about Jack's secret.

When his arms and legs began to feel lethargic after the sunset, they wished him a good night and safe month with his compatriots on Earth. Jack toddled off to bed. After stripping down, taking hold of a satchel filled with notes, and climbing under the sheet on the bed, the Guardian called to mind the one question he would ask The Man in the Moon. It stayed in his head as he began to change and slip from one universe to another. Soon nothing but a hazy, smoky outline of Jack remained.

“So you think he might consider remaining on Earth?” Valka asked when they could see moonlight through the window.

“Not really, but... who knows. Ever since Snotlout showed us the statue, he's been pretty quiet. He gets lost in his thinking a lot more, too,” Hiccup answered his mother.

“Maybe what happened to Isemaler reminded him of what happened to him before,” Fishlegs adroitly and subtly referenced the incident with the spokelsedrakes.

“No, he's always sounded like he knew he wasn't invincible,” Valka remarked as she picked at the honey and roasted acorn concoction Groanhilde sent along with her husband.

“I agree with Mom on this one, Fishlegs,” Hiccup said and watched his mother dissect her desert. “Jack said he knew he could be called on to sacrifice his life while doing his duty. Even after he faced The Breathless One that one time, he's never feared dying.”

The stoutest of the three nodded his head. Then he frowned, and his eyes almost disappeared into the folds of his cheeks. Both mother and son watched the smartest Viking they ever knew contemplate a private issue.

“Fishlegs?” Hiccup prodded his friend who slowly became completely stationary.

“I need to say something, and I know you're not going to like it, Hiccup,” Fishlegs rejoined.

“Say it. You know I value anything you have to tell me.”

The man looked up and stared at the thinner man before saying: “It's you. He doesn't know if he should stay because he doesn't fully understand what your thinking or feeling, Hiccup. You're his anchor here. Without you, without that tie, does Jack really have a reason to remain?”

Hiccup felt his mouth fall open. He always counted on Fishlegs to be direct when pressed, but this proved a high water mark for the man. Moreover, it sent a chill through Hiccup. The months of being separated from Jack constantly loomed over him, and over both of them in reality. The Viking also felt he and the Guardian slowly laid out all the issues between them and what needed to be addressed. Several times since the unveiling Hiccup wondered if he put too much pressure on Jack to make a decision. In that regard, he took the blame for Jack's seeming withdrawal.

“You... ah, raise a good point, and... maybe we talked about that... in a roundabout way, but... he knows what I want and what I would expect,” Hiccup responded.

“But do you know what he wants and expects?” His mother quickly challenged.

“Not entirely. Jack never comes right out and says it.”

“That's a problem, and I know you're right about that,” Fishlegs said in support of his friend's contention.

“Hiccup, does it really come down to whether Jack can give up being a Guardian and going back to Earth to fulfill his obligations? You knew it was a condition on their allowing him to stay in the first place,” Valka continued with her side the debate.

“I did, but... I never really thought about what it would be like, and it's not like they gave me... or us a chance to really think it over,” Hiccup countered. “Plus, they made him responsible for Isemaler, and they never really made that optional.”

Fishlegs and Valka glanced at one another, and Hiccup suspected the each wondered who would try and analyze what he told them. He took another bite of the desert. It created a strange taste in his mouth, and mostly because he never ate acorns in the past. He thought he could taste how half of Jack's workshop smelled. Strange as the flavor proved, the Viking did not find it altogether disagreeable. It seemed to be one of those items for which a person developed a liking. A new thought suddenly sprang to mind.

“I can't explain why I thought of this, but I don't think they'll allow him to leave Halla. Don't forget part of his arrangement involves The Breathless One,” he said and heard his voice drop half an octave when he mention the keeper of half the bargain.

“You don't think Jack would...” Fishlegs started to say in a panic.

“No, I don't, and don't ever think that again,” the man warned his rotund friend.

Fishlegs nodded. Hiccup saw his mother cast a dark glance on the man as well. The notion Jack would suicide simply to return to Earth went beyond being repellent.

“The idea needed to be considered in order for it to be dismissed,” Fishlegs flatly stated.

“I know, but he wouldn't do that!”

“No, he wouldn't. Jack has a respect... a reverence for life that allows him to place his own in jeopardy to protect others,” Valka summed up what Hiccup thought as well, but used much better terms.

As the three recovered from everything Fishlegs' questions conjured, Hiccup decided to change tack: “Do you remember when Jack first wanted to get dragon?”

His friend and mother both smirked at the memory and chaos that ensued to fulfill the desire in the Guardian.

“Yeah, and don't forgot where it got me,” Hiccup replied to smirks.

Valka started chuckling, but Fishlegs appeared less amused.

“He said he needed a dragon to really fit in... to understand what it meant to be one of us,” he reminded them.

“Not quite,” Fishlegs again challenged his friend. “He wanted one so he could understand what exists between you and Toothless. Ever notice after he got IceSpike he never again asked why you kept Toothless... and not just about his tail?”

Hiccup narrowed his eyes as he brought to mind all the memories regarding Jack's search for and finally finding the woolly howl who accepted him. The time afterward stressed Jack because even though he could naturally fly in another form, the ability did not make him an immediate success in training IceSpike. Yet the trials the two experienced ultimately led to a very tight bond, as all the other dragon riders knew would happen, but Jack needed to discover it on his own. Afterward, Jack used his knowledge of flight and proved very, very adept in the air on dragon back. However, Hiccup did not fully understand Fishlegs' point.

“And...?” He prompted his friend.

“And what did you ever do to understand his position?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Fishlegs. You can't compare the two situations. How in himmel would I ever manage to replicate what Jack experiences when he's a Guardian? How would I gain that sort of power and do what he does? Huh?”

“I didn't say replicate: I said understand.”

“He loves being a Guardian, I know that. I've always known that. Jack loves the winter. On Earth he sort of makes it happen like Lord of Winter does here. I got to watch him take apart a prison in ways I can't even describe. He froze walls so solid they turned into dust. So, I ask you again, Fishlegs, what is it I'm supposed to understand that I don't already know about?” Hiccup assaulted the question and waited for an answer.

“I... how would you feel if you didn't have Toothless anymore?” Fishlegs inquired and tried to regroup.

“I discussed this before both with you and with Jack. It would be terrible, and I can't say I'd do any better than Snotlout did when he lost Hookfang. I get what you're trying to say, Fishlegs, but the comparisons just don't work. I can't put myself in Jack's position, and don't think I haven't tried... at least mentally.”

“Have you, Fishlegs?” Valka asked in her soft but determined voice.

He closed his mouth and stared at the table.

“Come on. I'm sorry I yelled, but what are you really getting at?” Hiccup encouraged his friend.

“You already said it: how can any of us know... understand what it's like for him? How can you be certain that regardless of what you ask from Jack, it won't end up making his life terrible one way or the other?” The brilliant Viking queried the other two at the table, and indicated each by looking back and forth between them.

“What do you mean?” Hiccup requested clarification, and it made him feel nervous.

“It's simple: if he can't give up being a Guardian, then he loses you. If he wants to keep you, then he has to give up begin a Guardian for as long as he's on Halla. Now, out of those two options, which one is going to make him happiest in the end?”

Sarcasm laced the final question. Hiccup glanced at his mother, and Valka fixed her gaze on Fishlegs. An uncomfortable air settled around them. Fishlegs appeared fierce for a moment.

“And tell me why it's fair he has to make the decision and wind up losing something when you don't? The only stake you have in this is what Jack decides to do, and then you always have the luxury of saying it was his choice. If he feels bad about not being a Guardian, well, it was his choice. If he feels bad because he lost you, well, it was his choice. You're not taking any responsibility for your part in the relationship!” Fishlegs added and his voice grew louder the longer he spoke.

Hiccup blinked in utter astonishment. Of all people, Fishlegs earned the right to speak to him in such a manner, but it still came as a shock when it happened. Moreover, the argument the man presented felt like a lightning strike. It presented an entirely different way to view the situation between he and Jack, and not one he fully took into account. The worst part cam when Valka slowly turned to look at him. In her eyes he saw she agreed with Fishlegs. When he looked at his friend, he saw red spots on the round cheeks, and it meant the man built up a head of steam.

“One other thing,” Fishlegs growled when no one else spoke for a good length of time. “Didn't Jack stand up against The Breathless One: death, itself? When did you ever make that kind of choice for him? Huh? Seems to me Jack's made a lot of concessions for you just to keep you happy. Right now, right here, I want you to tell me what you did that measures up to either of those?”

“I put up with Isemaler barging into our lives...”

“Our, plural, yours and Jack's,” Fishlegs interjected. “It didn't just happen to you, Hiccup: it happened to both of you. Do you think Jack enjoyed having his life disrupted by Isemaler every time he hit a problem? Do you really think that's how he wanted to spend his time with you, at home... or anywhere?”

Shame edged into the thin Viking yet again over the issue of Isemaler.

“You tried to hold Jack responsible for a decision others made for him, and one he felt obligated to honor. You made his life worse with all of your moodiness and brooding about Isemaler. Know that? Did you ever, even once, hear Jack complain about the arrangement?”

“Not really,” he whispered at the stout Viking.

“Oh, how nice that at least one of you got to act like a bratty child. Lucky for you Jack didn't complain about that, either,” Fishlegs spat at him, no longer concealing his ire. “You made Jack suffer twice for having Isemaler around while you only had to suffer once. Then you made it ten times worse when you walked out...”

“It's not just about Isemaler, Fishlegs,” Hiccup shouted in return. “Do you know what it's like having to sit with him once a month and wonder if he's going to get killed somewhere you can't reach him or do anything to stop it?”

He turned to his mother, but she only gave him a blank stare and remained silent.

“Oh, boo hoo, you crybaby. No one I know of gets a guarantee the person they love is going to live to see the next day,” the blonde-haired man met shout for shout. “Groanhilde doesn't know if I'm going to drown while working on the water wheel. She doesn't know if some Mangler or pirate is going to kill me when we go out to defend Berk. No one – NO ONE! – gets the deal you're trying to get out Jack... and he can't deliver it. Ever!”

Fishlegs stood. His face a wild crimson color, and not from embarrassment. He glared at Hiccup who flinched from the expression.

“The worst part is you're throwing Jack's love away because you want to make sure you die first. Even that is a pocking terrible thing to wish for because it means you get to leave Jack alone with all that pain you say you know so well. How could you ever wish that on anyone?”

Disgust dripped from the man's words. Without waiting for an answer, Fishlegs turned on one heel and stomped through the dining room, through the living area, and then straight out the door which he brusquely opened and closed with a loud bang. IceSpike and Toothless rumbled from above. Hiccup turned to his mother, and she did not change her expression.

“And that's the reason why you keep him around as one of your best friends,” Valka said to her son after a few moments. “He speaks truth to you even when you don't want to hear it. Fishlegs is also a lot braver than anyone gives him credit for being.”

“Wait a second! Are you saying you agree with him?” Hiccup quailed.

Valka tilted her head to one side, seemed to lose focus for a moment, and then said: “Yes, pretty much all of it.”

The man felt like an orphan.

“Son, the pain you experienced in your youth clouded your thinking about Jack,” she quietly said to him. “You're so afraid of losing him and feeling that loss all over again you're willing to give up the entire relationship just to avoid it. Fishlegs spelled it out pretty clearly: you want to make Jack responsible for how you feel if or when something goes wrong.”

“I...” Hiccup tried to protest, but the words got stuck in his throat.

His mother stood in a graceful motion. She then leaned down and kissed him on his cheek. When she righted herself, their eyes met. He saw pity in the orbs.

“Mom?”

“Think about what he said, Hiccup. Fishlegs loves you as one of his closet friends, and he wouldn't say what he did if he didn't. You've trusted him before to help you see your way through a knotty problem, so don't give up on that now.”

He blinked at her.

“Just think about it at the very least, son.”

“Okay,” he whispered.

“Don't forget we've got patrol training with the new riders tomorrow. They're a green lot, so you'll have your hands full,” she warned him, and then kissed the top of his head.

His mother agreeing with Fishlegs left Hiccup momentarily paralyzed. He watched her leave the house without saying good-bye or uttering any other word. Fishlegs accusations continued to swirl through him in a strange mix of anger and fear. The smell of the uneaten food gave Hiccup something else upon which to focus. He slowly roused and began to clean up the small mess left behind by three other people. However, his mind continued to center on everything one of his best friends said to him. He tired to form mental arguments against the points, but what he devised felt unsubstantiated and weak.

“I don't want to die before him,” he grumbled while adding the refuse to the bucket of scraps he knew Jack saved for Ra-Ra. “I don't want either of us to die.”

Try as he might, Hiccup found it impossible to dismiss what his friend said in anger over the situation. It felt as though Fishlegs stacked the deck against him. It seemed the stout Viking did not take into full consideration the lifestyle he got forced to accept over the last ten years. Regardless, Hiccup's brain told him Fishlegs would not make so simple a mistake. Furthermore, the amazingly intelligent Viking argued on behalf of Jack in regard to his, Hiccup's, actions and behaviors. Fear started to win out while Hiccup set the dirty dishes and flatware into the washtub.

“He acted like I didn't think about Jack at all in any of this,” Hiccup verbally defended against his thoughts.

The niggling accusations did not let the Viking rest when he tried to lay down on his makeshift bed. After tossing and turning for a quarter of an hour, he rose, opened the slats on the shielded oil lamp, and took it with him as he ventured up into his old bedroom. The light glinted off the dual pair dragon eyes that watched him ascend. Toothless warbled quietly.

“Just can't sleep, buddy,” he told the night fury.

The Viking walked to the desk he formerly used for drafting and writing. After pulling out the chair and divesting it of a small pile of Jack's clothing, he sat down. Hiccup faced the smoky remains of the Guardian. It brought to mind Etuchaand, and Hiccup recognized one small commonality between the two: they both existed from and because of powers he could scarcely comprehend. The flickering lamplight heightened the impression as Jack's form looked like moving smoke.

“I don't want to take anything else away from you,” Hiccup whispered to the inert form. “I don't want you to give up something you love so much, but... I don't know if I can survive having you taken away from me.”

The inadvertent admission caught him up short. It acted like confirmation of Fishlegs' assertions. Hiccup flinched. He stared at what got left behind of the one he loved when the Guardian made the transit from one world to the next. It always unnerved him each time he saw it. As happened with he thought of Etuchaand, Hiccup shuddered when he privately confessed it also reminded him of Aita, The Breathless One. The Viking's brain seized on that point. He realized each time he saw the immaterial form, he thought of death. Specifically, he thought of Jack's death. Yet again Fishlegs appeared to be prescient. Hiccup folded his arms across his chest as though it might protect him. He leaned against the wall while staring at the outline of Jack in the wan yellow light.

“You're in a place where no one can reach you, not even Lord of Winter,” he whispered and closed his eyes at the terrifying notion anything that happened to the Guardian remained firmly out of his ability to control or influence. It made the Viking feel vulnerable and weak.

Leaning against the wall made Hiccup believe, even for a second, that some part of the world possessed permanence. The he remembered how the contents of his room got smashed and burned during the civil war. They also set the room on fire, yet it managed to survive. Once more his thoughts turned toward death and destruction. Hiccup knew he would never rid himself of the image of Sledgehead's face frozen in his final moments of life. The skull jammed on pike served as both a reminder and a warning to the former chieftain as to some of the true costs of control and power. Hiccup closed his eyes and tried to recall happier days. However, in all his days there seemed to be a looming threat of one type or another. Hiccup frowned and attempted to make his mind go blank.

It took far longer than he expected, and only by counting the number of breaths the dragons took did Hiccup finally find slumber.

“N-n-n-gah!” A shout tore the Viking from his slumber.

Thin sunlight rose through the stairwell.

“What? What?” Hiccup yelled and jumped to his feet.

Both Toothless and IceSpike let out half-roars of concern.

“For Thor's sake, get them to stop trumpeting,” Jack ordered.

Hiccup saw the naked man sitting up in bed. Jack rubbed the sides of his head like he suffered the worst imaginable headache or another attack from Etuchaand. His brown hair stuck out all around his head in a fair approximation of what it did when in Guardian form. The newly returned man winced whenever he glanced at the lighted stairway. Jack's body trembled and twitched. Then he glanced at Hiccup and his eyes narrowed with questions despite the obvious pain he felt.

“What?” Hiccup asked as if Jack accused him of some dastardly deed.

“Why are you sitting there? Here's this huge bed and you're sleeping in a chair. I don't get it.” Jack queried in a rather surly manner.

“What terrible terror nested in your hair?” Hiccup counter-questioned.

“It just... it really, really... really hurt coming back this time.”

“Hurt? Why? How? I thought you were in your ghost state when it happened.”

Jack shrugged and glanced around again.

“And why are you just sitting up here anyway? Were you spying on me naked while I was sleeping?” The Guardian inquired in a guarded tone.

“First of all, you're Earth clothes appear when you start to change,” Hiccup rejoined in a similar fashion. “Second, you turn half-invisible and all smokey. Even if you were naked, nobody would be able to see anything anyway... and you know all this!”

“Yeah, sorry. It's just my head... my body.”

“Want me to brew some of the coffee stuff of yours?”

“Sure. It'll give me time to get dressed,” Jack replied.

Hiccup stood and aimed for the stairs. He did not say he would be not bothered one bit if Jack remained in his current attire. His feet hit the first riser going down.

“So, ah, thanks again for keeping watch,” the Earthling said in a calmer voice.

“It's not a difficult job, so it's not a big deal,” Hiccup told him.

“Well, when I wake up looking like this, I'm glad it's you and not your mom or Fishlegs... or anybody else. At least you're used to it.”

Hiccup nodded. He might be used to it, but pent up needs for the last nearly three months made him think otherwise. Seeing Jack naked did nothing more than remind him about one of the more physical benefits of their past relationship. Hiccup shoved the thoughts aside as he walked down the stairs and to the galley.

Ten minutes later he and Jack sat at the dining table. Two mugs of the unpleasant but potent brew sat steaming before them. Jack wasted no time in taking several sips while Hiccup added as much honey to the concoction as he dared. The Guardian wore very light clothing in anticipation of another hot, humid Berkian summer day. Hiccup, himself, did not wear much more. He feet wore shoes while Jack's did not. A night spent fretting as he slept in fits and starts left the Viking with too much on his mind.

“This'll help,” Jack said as he took yet another drink of dirty brown and hot liquid. He stretched again as if trying to relieve knots in his muscles.

“How was it on Earth?” Hiccup inquired and vainly searched for a way to express his real thoughts.

“Busy. A lot happened, and not necessarily Guardian matters, either,” the Guardian informed him while blowing across the surface of his beverage. “Reginald, Phyllis, and Goorah send their thanks for your notes. They were impressed with the level of detail you went into.”

“That was all Fishlegs. I'm surprised you couldn't figure it out by the way it was written.”

A small, sardonic smile rippled across Jack's face before he said: “Regardless, they really appreciated the time and effort both of you took in writing everything down.”

Hiccup nodded at the praise.

“Hiccup,” Jack said after a few moments of silence. “I asked The Man in the Moon your question about... well, what happens to me here if something happens to me there.”

“Did he bother to answer?” The Viking grumbled.

“Actually, he did and, trust me, I wasn't expecting it, either. He said my body would reappear... but, ah, just my body.”

Hiccup nodded and said: “I already guessed that would be the answer.”

“It does seem pretty logical.”

“Nothing about being a Guardian follows much logic,” the Berkian quickly asserted. “What you and your friends are asked to do... what you face. Earth is a scary place, you now that, right?”

“Any worse than Halla?”

Hiccup held the man's brown eyes in a fixed gaze until Jack looked away.

“Okay, some parts are a lot worse,” the Earthling conceded.

A heavy silence slowly took shape between and around them. They spent a few minutes taking small sips of the highly caffeinated drink. Jack did not mind the taste since it gave him the boost he often sought. He knew Hiccup held a less-than-fond view of the brew, and he appreciated how the man routinely worked his way through a cup on a social principle than a physical want. Jack also noticed the way Hiccup stared outwardly at distant unseen points. It indicated something important rested in his head. He wondered when the Viking would get around to expressing it. Thus, he slowed down the rate at which he drank his not-coffee coffee.

“So, ah, how late did Valka and Fishlegs stay?” Jack queried when Hiccup became relative motionless.

“Not a lot longer, but long enough,” Hiccup said and tried to force himself to say more, but it got stuck in his head.

“Long enough for what?”

“To, um, talk... about... things.”

“Come on, Hiccup. I can tell something is bugging you, so just say it,” Jack commanded as the headache he endured affected his patience.

“Do you know how much of a friend you've got in Fishlegs?” The Viking began using a clear stalling tactic.

“Yes, I do. Why do you bring it up?”

“Because he really tore some serious strips out of me last night... on your behalf.”

Jack blinked in surprise and almost forgot his physical discomfort. Hiccup watched the reaction, and it gave him a small amount of relief to see Jack did not set Fishlegs to the task. It meant the brilliant, stout Viking acted of his own accord.

“He, um, pretty much told me I'm scared of our relationship because something might happen to you that I can't stop... like you might die,” Hiccup said in a very flat tone.

“Is he wrong?” The Guardian carefully questioned.

“Maybe not,” the Viking said and shrugged his shoulders. “I've been surrounded by people dying all my life. First from dragons, then other Vikings... each other. You'd think with how hard it is to make a life on these piles of rocks we'd be a little nicer to each other.”

“Good point, but back to what Fishlegs...”

“I...” Hiccup interrupted and then halted. His voice caught. When he looked up and into the warm brown eyes of Jack, he felt a sob start to build in the middle of his chest.

“Hiccup?” Jack said the name with open concern and worry.

“I love you... so, so much... most of the time it scares me stupid,” the elder dragon rider whispered. “Each time I look at you... I worry... what'll happen if you get taken away from me.”

“I understand. I feel... think the same thing quiet often,” Jack told him yet again.

The man stared down at the table and said the Guardian: “I don't know how to deal with it, Jack. That's why... these last few months I... I don't know what do. After seeing Isemaler get killed....”

“You worry it'll happen to me,” the now human elemental man said. “You worry about it all the time. I concerns me when we're getting ready to fight against some invading force that you'll think you have to be the hero and save someone's life at the expense of your own.”

Hiccup frowned and said: “You never quite put it like before.”

“Why should I? Would it change anything you would do in the middle of a battle? I've always understood how you think in that regard, so what would be the point of harping on it?”

The Viking did not hear Jack the Berkian, but Jack the Guardian. Jack, in his mortal skin, studied Hiccup while the man clearly thought about something. He saw the distant look in the green eyes.

“Hiccup, what is this about, really?” Jack inquired.

“Fishlegs said I was being a coward...”

“You are not a coward...”

“Oh, guess again,” Hiccup took his turn interjecting. “It all depends on the circumstances. Sure, I can face Beserkers or dragon hunters without giving it a single thought, but you... when it comes to you... something changes in me.”

Jack kept his mouth closed when the man paused.

“I know people die. I've seen it and, well, let's be honest, I've done in a few here and there,” the Viking spoke as if sharing a secret. “I never get used to people dying even when I know it's going to happen, when it's unavoidable. That day I lost you to the spokelsedrakes... I couldn't handle it, Jack. It broke me. I never really got over it.”

“And this is why you resent when I go back to Earth to be a Guardian?” He asked while already knowing the answer. However, Jack needed to hear Hiccup say it.

Hiccup nodded his head and answered: “It just feels like if I was with you maybe I might be able to stop anything bad from happening to you that would leave me... alone.”

The fear and pain projected in the voice could not be faked. Jack heard people in fear before, including himself. It reverberated in his heart and mind. He also knew the issue got mixed with many of Hiccup's other life experiences.

“Fishlegs said I was trying to escape my responsibility to you... our relationship because I'm so damn afraid you'll die. He said I was trying to make myself blameless for whatever happened by forcing you to make all the big choices.”

“Hiccup, no...” Jack began to say.

“He's right, Jack. If you gave up being a Guardian and you weren't happy with it, I'd get to say you chose to do that. Same thing if you didn't and we... stayed apart. I could blame that on you, too, for making a choice even though I forced you to make it. I was trying to avoid guilt,” Hiccup persisted in finishing his thoughts lest it begin to rot him from the inside out. He thought all through the night, and it even invaded his dreams.

“So what are you telling me?”

“I'm telling you you don't have to make the choice, Jack. I realized I need you more than I'm afraid of what will happen to you... and I never, ever should've made you chose between me and what you are. It'll take me the rest of my life to apologize for that,” the Viking said while his face dropped down as shame filled him. “I am so, so sorry.”

Jack sighed a bit. He thought about what he endured during the transfer to Halla, and yet he knew he would go through it all again. However, one point remained with him and he said: “You have to tell me what you're thinking, Hiccup. I refuse to guess and maybe get it wrong.”

“It's not what I'm thinking, but what I want.”

“Then tell me.”

“I want you to take me back,” Hiccup said, lifted his head, and revealed the tears the slipped from his eyes. “I know it won't be like it was...”

“And it shouldn't. Gods, Hiccup, life is change. From one moment to the next life is all about change,” the Guardian in disguise firmly stated. “These last ten years here on Halla... every day I get up and I can feel how I've changed... in my body, my head... how I think and view things. It amazes me every single damn day.”

Hiccup narrowed his eyes that grew red and puffy from the contained emotions within him.

“My body doesn't change on Earth. It never will. It's not even flesh anymore,” Jack continued. “I'm only now starting to understand what Father Moon said when he told me I'd return to Earth so much more than I ever was. It's true each time I go back... but it made me realize I did change over those three hundred years I tried to get people to notice me. I think it's what The Man in the Moon wanted me to realize.”

“So you are going back there permanently then?” The Viking inquired as sorrow filled his words.

“No. I'm here for good until my last day. I want to be here... and I do want to be with you.”

Hiccup's face brightened.

“And it can't be like it was, Hiccup. We need to change... always change as things change around us. I think that was our first and biggest mistake: we tried to keep things exactly like they were in the beginning. We both share the blame in that.”

The Viking nodded.

“Look, I might be over three hundred years old, but I don't have a damn clue about how to act or behave in a relationship. Not like this one,” the Earthling said while reaching out a hand to stroke the side of the Viking's face.

Hiccup leaned into it.

“Can I tell you something, Hiccup, I never told anyone else?”

“Of course.”

“I was afraid I was forgetting what it meant to have fun before I even came here,” Jack half-whispered and lowered his hand. “The truth was I didn't fully understand it. I never did. Nick knew, and so did Toothania... and Sandy and Bunny. It's why they liked my coming here. Fun means something so different to me now, and I can really see what it means to children. This is what Father Moon wanted for me... and it's why I need you, too.”

“So... you'll take me back?” Hiccup asked and did not mask his fear of the answer.

“I never let go,” the Guardian told him. “You wouldn't believe how much time I spent at The Warren in order to keep my hopes up we'd figure a way out of this problem.”

“Bunny is astonishing,” the Viking said to his Jack and his memories of the giant rabbit-like person.

“He is, and he's been such a good friend to me.”

For a brief few seconds the two shared in their amazement of the other Guardians.

“But I'm serious, Hiccup, we can't go back to the way it used to be between us. We need something different, better... more,” Jack returned to the present.

“Agreed,” Hiccup said as relief began to soothe his sense of guilt and shame. “Like what?”

“Well, reuniting with your old friends was a good start.”

“Yeah. Even Astrid and me started to patch things up,” the Viking said with even more relief. “And what you did for Snotlout... everyone owes you for that.”

“No. He did that on his own, Hiccup. Snotlout found his way back, and I think we need to thank Heeboo and Ra-Ra for helping him.”

“Heeboo is so sweet,” the senior dragon rider said with open affection.

Jack reached over and caressed Hiccup's arm. People who thought the man grew hard and jaded over the years always discounted the gentle heart he kept for dragons. It took Jack a few years to realize Hiccup loved so deep and hard it made him vulnerable to the worst pain of mortal life. The man never found a good way to protect himself, and it coarsened him. As Jack looked at him, Hiccup recalled the man who with a simple wave of a finger could elicit excitement, fun, and merriment out of children and most adults. Somewhere along the line, it seemed to the Viking the Guardian lost touch with that on Halla. Perhaps living in flesh created a barrier through which Jack needed to break. At the moment, the feel of Jack's hand on his arm and the knowledge they would try to rebuild their life together lifted a huge weight from his shoulders and from Jack's.

“You need to be more of who you really are, Jack. Know that?” Hiccup capitalized on his thinking. “It's sort of my fault you lost your spontaneity.”

“Maybe, but only a little bit,” Jack said and smirked. “I was so busy trying to figure out how to live a mortal life I forgot I could just let it happen on its own.”

Hiccup just gazed at the man.

“And maybe you need to find a way to channel all that love you have for everything so it doesn't turn around and hurt you,” the Guardian suggested.

“Maybe I should express it more. Kind of like how Snotlout used carving that stature of Isemaler to keep himself form going back to old, bad habits.”

“Good analogy.”

“So, ah, where do we go from here?” Hiccup inquired and glanced about the house.

“We shouldn't over-plan it. That's never really worked too well for me in the past,” Jack admitted and took another sip of his coffee grown much cooler.

“But we can't just wing it. I've faced too many problems when I fly blind into something.”

“Okay. How about we say let's think about tomorrow and not too much about next week.”

Hiccup nodded. He let his other hand cover Jack's that rested on his arm. While he still feared what may happen one day, the Viking realized he could not let it control him. In the same vein, Jack found he could not just ignore how his actions today would shape the years ahead. The memory of Isemaler remained a potent reminder of that fact.

“So what do you want to do tomorrow?” Hiccup asked.

“Wouldn't mind taking a long flight to some of those southern islands with those colorful lagoons,” Jack suggested.

“Sounds nice. We could lay on a beach. Stare at the sky.”

“Be with each other and forget about next week.”

Hiccup leaned back a little. His eyes squinted. Jack returned the expression.

“What?” The hidden Guardian inquired when the Viking did not elaborate on the look.

“It's gonna be hot. What'll we wear?” Hiccup asked.

“How about we bring a big canopy and skip the clothes.”

“I could live with that.”

The Hallan and the Earthling eyed one another for a moment. A familiar, old, and welcomed feeling rose in Jack. He started to laugh. Hiccup's face broke into his slightly lopsided grin. Both knew they would need to continue to sort through the effects of the last ten years, and it would not guarantee a smooth or even positive future for them. However, they understood it would require sharing more about themselves, even their deepest anxieties and fears, if they wanted any chance to succeed. Moreover, they knew they needed to change with each other and the times as well. Their laughter spoke on many levels, but in the end it spoke to each other.

“Oh, and do I have a surprise for you!” Jack cackled.

“Really? What?” Hiccup gasped.

“Wait. Just wait a few weeks. You'll see.”

“Better be worth it.”

“It is. It really is,” Jack answered and winked.


	18. AFTERWORD

Here ends my involvement in the lives of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III of the Hairy Hooligans and Jackson Overland Frost, a Guardian of Childhood. These two helped me express so many ideas I do not where to begin (well, read the works to find out). However, I do not want to run the risk of letting them grow stale or tired by my hand. Hence, this is the last I will write of their lives together. I now leave them in the hands and minds of HiJack fans everywhere to continue the exploration.

Over three years ago (as of writing the final words of this book) a search for information regarding How to Train Your Dragon 3 led me to stumble across this whole HiJack universe that takes on so many interesting and varied forms. What started out as a couple of questions led to my writing three novels: “How did Hiccup and Jack really meet, and what caused it to happen?” I feel satisfied with my answer.

I would like to thank everyone who read my works. I would like to especially thank those who left comments and sent me private messages regarding the stories. Whether a critique or praise, a majority of the comments proved very helpful. You have my undying gratitude for taking the extra time to reach out to me.

If any should be inclined, feel free to write within the alternate universe I created for these two. After all, I did not create Hiccup and his world nor Jack and his. Just treat whatever original characters I created with respect and allow others to pick up wherever you leave off. In the Internet age, one of the greatest gifts and strengths of this medium lie in the power of collaborative and derivative works. Fan fiction, regardless of what anyone says, is a real art form and deserves of respect. I never fully appreciated or understood that until I began this series of stories.

Some final thank yous: to the late Anne McCaffrey who gave me my first love of dragons; to the late Kurt Vonnegut who taught me absurdity can enhance any piece of literature; to Sir Terry Pratchett whose works inspired me to laugh and think at the same time; and to my late Mom who always encouraged me to explore my story telling capabilities. Also, thank you to the many, many others who are my friends, frenemies, and acquaintances. Some of you became part of these stories.

I wish you all well. Keep reading. Keep writing. Keep sharing.

D. O'Shea

ADDENDUM – August 2018

In between publishing the story and completing a second edit, I got some private messages with questions I would like to answer. Also, I am leaving the original wording of the questions as well.

**“What character you made you like best?”**

Hands down: Groanhilde.

I knew from the first book the other characters on Berk would marry and, in most cases, produce children. Finding a match for Fishlegs proved vital since he figured so prominently in the stories. By the time I reached Between Ice and Wings, Groanhilde popped fully formed out of my head. She straddles the space between Astrid and Valka as a smart, capable woman with an ample supply of courage. She is every bit the equal of Fish legs.

One simply needs to note the admiration and respect both Hiccup and Jack extend toward her. While Berkian women are on equal footing with men, Groanhilde needed to be equal to Fishlegs in his context. The fact she rejected his offer of marriage at least twice, and with good reason, shows her strength of mind, person, and personality. Moreover, Groanhilde is not cruel or mean, even when she is asking the most difficult questions; however, she is no pushover by any stretch of the imagination. She is compelling and complex as a character.

Same person asked: **“What bad guy you like best?”**

Short answer: Pulhu.

I needed a villain that could rival the collective strength of the Guardians, could vex Hiccup and Toothless, but still offered a weak spot. Unlike the villains in the Guardian movie or books, Pulhu does his work more or less in the open while people (children) are awake. Once that piece got put in place, it opened up the possibilities. Pulhu also pulls on my emotions. He (it?) lives utterly alone and derives his sustenance from a source that learns to despise him. Trying to imagine living like that for millions of years made me slightly sympathetic to him as a character. The scene in A Dragon on Earth where he sits alone in a cave, hugging his knees, and crying for want of food and for fear exposes something more human about him.

**”Can or would Jack kill?”**

Yes.

He actually does it all the time with the creatures he hunts down who antagonize or hurt children. All the Guardians are capable of killing, and I think each has and will for the same reasons as Jack. If you meant would they kill a human, I am not certain about that. Jack came close in A Dragon on Earth when he freed Hiccup from the prison. I wrestled with the problem of whether he would, and decided in the end to leave in a rather ambiguous state.

**”How come Hiccup is such a dick in the last story?”** (The questioner's words, not mine.)

He's not: Hiccup is very, very conflicted about a lot of issues that built up over the years. By the end of the second HTTYD film, I found it wholly ironic that the kid the village used to despise makes him chief. Even in the films you can see an edge of disdain Hiccup harbors for his own people. He thinks them to violent and not prone to thinking actions through (although he does this himself at time in the television series). In the first book, Winter Comes to Berk, he is already wrestling with the demands his position places upon him. His growing understanding concerning his sexuality also weighs heavily on him. One part of him longs for the acceptance and respect of his clan, but another part sees how short-sighted and volatile his people can be. Hiccup's attempts to weld these conflicts together in his mind is what causes his change in character. By the time of the third story, his condition is completely unmanageable.

**”What is Jack Frost. As a being?”**

In my mind Jack Frost is something quite unlike the other Guardians. The others retained a good portion of their human reality. Jack, conversely, is a person made into an elemental creature. He is not physical by the same standards as the other Guardians. Both his being and his powers originate from a much different source than his compatriots. Jack, at least in my interpretation, is linked directly to The Man in the Moon. In some regards he is an autonomous appendage of The Man.

Jack is also more powerful than the rest of the Guardians, with Sandy as the possible exception. His ability to fight Pitch Black one-on-one rivals the best Sandy can do. None of the other Guardians appear to share the same capabilities. I tried to show the Hallan Isemaler struggling with the enormity of his abilities while trying to live up to the example set by Jack (a very tall order). Isemaler actually managed to freeze part of the Thunder Queen, Blikse'Fey. That is no mean feat. Although I did not put it in the story, it scared the bejeebus out of Lord of Winter. Like Jack Frost, Isemaler is capable of commanding the entire force of winter. Just think about what the actually entails.

**”So you wont write another Hijack?”**

My gut instinct is to say no. I covered a lot of ground with these two in three books. For me, I explore questions when I write. I wanted to know how a relationship between a mortal and, let's be honest for a minute, a god would unfold. Hiccup longed for love and acceptance. Jack never realized how much of life he did not understand. Hiccup continually felt isolated from everyone on Berk either because he did not fit the mold of a Viking, his innate abilities with dragons, and then how he expressed love both emotionally and physically. Jack Frost got granted an enormous power, and The Man in the Moon wisely left him to own devices to figure out what he could do without actually causing too much harm. In that time period Jack mentally matured although his body did not.

Each character got saddled with internal conflicts that, even if Jack were fully human, would cause a lot of problems between people. Hiccup needed to get over his issues regarding abandonment and death. Jack needed to understand himself as a human in order to better serve the people on Earth. These three books, in my opinion, adequately explore these complex topics. Excuse my language, but there is a shit-ton of philosophy in these stories. I am not sure what more I can say about these two that I did not already touch.

Maybe years down the road I will return to Halla and Hiccup and Jack, but then I would need to struggle against what comes out in HTTYD 3. Thus, maybe... or maybe not.

**One final note...**

I love me some Ruffnut and Tuffnut. They are great comic relief who also manage to sneak in some important questions from time to time. I learned it is very, very difficult to control them in a story. Any writer must feel like letting go and having those two run amok. I know I did. Hence, I learned to limit their appearances and the chaos they induce in any setting. With the Thorstons, any Berkian will tell you a little goes a long way. Less is sometimes better. In some ways I became a better writer through them.


End file.
